


don't care if heaven won't take me back

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [52]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (because she is), (possibly), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astonishingly Plotty, BAMF Wanda Maximoff, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Drama, Explosions, Feelings, I mean at this point this whole verse is canon divergence start to finish, M/M, POV Loki, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Has Some Bad Days, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Things Fall Apart - Freeform, feels like there should be other tags I can't think of right now, it feels a little funny to tag this that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Loki in Manhattan, Bucky in D.C., the Avengers in Sokovia, Thor in Latveria.A reckoning's been coming for a while now. When the tipping point comes, it comes fast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is lovingly known as "Remember This Cold: The Great Avengers Slap Fight Edition" or sometimes "this fucking monster." I've been working on it since two days after Civil War came out. The outline was three pages long. I spent a lot of the past seven months screaming. But here it is. 
> 
> While this is the second longest installment of Remember This Cold (after "This Is My Kingdom Come") it may well be the most complicated. This fic juggles and pulls in a lot of different plot threads from across the series, which means I was trying to manage a lot of things. The fact that I'm also writing using a single limited point-of-view means that some things get left out. I hope nobody feels that I dropped any particularly important threads. (Boy, do I.)
> 
> Funnily enough, one of the stickiest things for me was figuring out how to deal with Pietro's presence, which means that saving his life ultimately created a lot of problems for me. This seems somehow fitting, Pietro considered.
> 
> This fic was, most of the time, a lot of fun to write. Nonetheless, as above mentioned, there was a lot of screaming. I owe a huge debt of thanks to the numerous people who helped talk me through points where I was stuck, cheerled, or just offered encouraging words, especially to Lena, Peaches, Rosie, and Kyra. Thank you. 
> 
> And a huge thank you to [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), my wonderful beta, as always, who when I cried on her mid-November about how the whole fic was a mess, pointed out that that probably had more to do with the condition of the world as a whole than the writing itself.
> 
> This fic will be posted in three sections every other day starting today. It is complete, so I can keep to that schedule. If you're not reading every installment of this series, the important background fics for this one are ["Shrapnel"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6679255) and probably ["the sword alone, the shield forsaken"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6713326). 2016 has been a hell of a year, you guys: consider this a gift for the end of it. 
> 
> A note on the title: it is from [Angel With a Shotgun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQKMLmXc0xo) by The Cab. Give it a listen - the lyrics in general are somewhat thematically appropriate.
> 
> Finally: take a look at the top, where it says "Series". See that? Part 50 of the Remember This Cold series. Four and a half years after "I heard you killed your only friend last year" and (as of the end of this fic) over 600k+ words later. Isn't that something? I wrote there that that fic was on the verge of being scrapped entirely, but for some timely intervention, and "it exists now. And there are some things I like about it."
> 
> Enjoy, folks.

It was a quiet Friday, which meant that Loki should have known better than for it to last.

He and Steve were having a pleasant afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum - always enjoyable, but especially so when he could coax Steve into an impromptu lecture on the artworks. It took a bit of doing to get past his insistence that he had never finished school and didn’t really know all _that_ much, but once he did his enthusiasm alone was intensely rewarding. Loki had just managed to get him going on romantic landscape painters, two elderly women trailing after them pretending not to listen, when Steve’s phone went off.

“Not on silent?” Loki said, clicking his tongue. Steve made a face at him.

“It’s the emergency number, hold on - sorry,” he said to the elderly couple, who were now giving them disapproving frowns.

Loki strode after him, not a little disappointed. “Do you think there is a way I could effectively threaten various villainous sorts into allowing you a day off?” Loki asked, as Steve walked out of the galleries with his phone to his ear.

“Hello, this is-”

He broke off and stopped dead. His eyes widened. “Hold on,” he said, professional tone utterly gone. He groped for Loki’s arm and grabbed it a little tighter than was quite comfortable. “I’ll be right there. Don’t - just stay under cover-” Steve broke off, pulling the phone away and whirling on Loki. “We need to get back to the Tower now.”

Loki frowned. “What is-”

“Now,” Steve interrupted him loudly. “It’s Buck.”

Loki’s stomach dropped and he yanked them through space to James’ rooms.

It was very quiet. There was no sign of James, though there was plenty of sign of a struggle: three dead bodies, one lying in a blood soaked patch of carpet, one’s head cracked open on the coffee table, and the third’s neck broken. Loki heard Steve hiss through his teeth and let go of him. “Bucky?” Steve said, voice vibrating with tension.

“Careful,” Loki said lowly. Steve moved down the hallway without responding. The windows were intact, Loki noted, so they had not come through there. Which meant they must have infiltrated the building through another route. “Where is Stark?” He asked.

“Malibu,” Steve said shortly, emerging from the bedroom. “There’s four more in there.”

Loki turned in a circle, scanning the room, looking toward the broken doorway. “He wouldn’t want to be cornered,” Loki said, and strode over to one of the walls, sketching a quick sigil with his fingertip and stepping through. He heard Steve yelp, but his own shoulders slid down. He clicked the lights on with a snap of his fingers.

“Seven,” he said. James lifted his head from where his forehead was resting on his knees.

“I counted twelve,” he said. Loki swore, just as Steve stumbled out of the wall after him.

“Did you put a _portal_ in - _Bucky,_ ” he said, nearly going limp with relief, and hurried over. “Are you hurt, are you - what happened?”

James’ eyes stayed on Loki, not moving from where he was sitting wedged into a corner of the mat room, knees drawn up to his chest. “An eighth one tried to follow me, but I closed the door before he got through. Don’t know where he went.”

“Nowhere he’ll come back from,” Loki said coldly. Steve looked back and forth between them, then focused back on James.

“Are you hurt?” He asked again.

“No,” James said after a moment, eyes moving slowly to Steve. Struggling to focus, Loki thought, to stay present. “There were four more,” he went on. “Must’ve gotten away.”

“Four-” Steve’s jaw tightened and he visibly forced himself to settle. “Did you see any sign of who sent them?” He asked Loki. Loki shook his head.

“A pity I never learned necromancy,” he said. Barnes and Steve both stared at him, and he waved a hand. “A poor attempt at a jest. I will look again.”

“They weren’t amateurs,” James said. His voice was strange, dead flat. Loki couldn’t tell if he was masking some emotion or simply suppressing it altogether, but he could see by the way Steve looked at him that it unnerved him. “They knew I was here. I didn’t get any warning from Stark’s computer helper, either.”

“Some kind of cloaking tech, or-” Loki met James’s eyes and tensed. Steve broke off. “No. No, you think - Tony knew about this?”

“Convenient that he wasn’t here,” Loki murmured. “And that no other security was alerted.” Steve’s expression twitched.

“He wouldn’t do that,” he said. “Tony’s - I’ll grant you he can be an asshole, but he wouldn’t do something like this.”

“You sure, Steve?” James said. “We both know he doesn’t like me much.” Loki saw just a split second’s hesitation.

“I’m sure,” he said. “Tony’s loyal, and it’s not...if he did want you out, he wouldn’t do it like this. Not _liking_ you isn’t the same as sending a bunch of guys to take you out.”

“Well,” James said after a moment. “They’re dead now, anyway. Most of them.” He pulled away from Steve, standing up. “Thanks for the magic door. Came in handy.”

“You are welcome,” Loki said, keeping his expression smooth. Something was...off, but he couldn’t be entirely certain what. At least not yet. Steve looked back and forth between them and Loki could almost see his worry increasing.

“Let’s go to my old suite,” Loki prompted. “You need a wash, James, and a change of clothes. And someone should probably inform-”

Steve’s phone rang. He picked it up and glanced at the screen. “Tony,” he said briefly, to them both. Loki felt his lip curl and Steve gave him a quelling look as he answered it, but Loki noticed his “hello, Tony, how are you?” was a little too polite to be genuine.

He listened for a moment, then put the phone on speaker. “—the hell, Steve, I just heard about some kind of security breach and now Friday is telling me there are _dead people_ in my building and Manchurian Candidate is loose-”

“Seven dead people, to be exact,” Loki said coolly. “So they are not yours, then?”

“Not-” Stark made an indignant noise. “Steve, tell your boyfriend to shut up and tell _me_ what the hell I’m looking at here.”

“You go,” Steve said quietly to him and James both. “I’ll come and meet you.”

“My way or the stairs?” Loki asked James, trying not to let his voice turn gentle. He had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Stairs,” James said shortly. “I could use the walk.”

* * *

Loki waited until they were clear of the room and then flicked his fingers in a gesture to hide them from sight, electronic or otherwise. “What did you not want to tell Steve?” He asked. James’ shoulders hunched and he said nothing for a long moment.

“I know HYDRA,” he said at length. “This wasn’t it.”

“Who do you think they were, then?”

James shrugged. “No idea.” Loki caught a note in his voice that suggested otherwise, but he left it alone for now. _Who_ was not that important. “Clearly my location isn’t as secret as it’s supposed to be, though.”

“So it would seem.” Loki opened the door to the stairwell and both of them checked it simultaneously. James let out a humorless laugh.

“Peas in a paranoid pod, huh?”

“I daresay we have earned it,” Loki said, starting downwards. “Isn’t there a saying about it not being paranoid when everyone really is out to get you?”

“Something like that.” James fell into step with him, though there was still something slightly jerky about the way he was moving. Loki watched him sidelong, undecided whether he should comment on it or pretend he had not noticed. At length, James made a noise in the back of his throat. “When they attacked. I…switched on.”

Loki gave him a sharp look. “I don’t follow.”

Not looking at him, James paused, staring at the corner of the stairwell. “I mean I – went somewhere. Switched.” Loki saw the corner of his mouth twist. “Was the Winter Soldier again.”

“But you were not,” Loki said. “You were still under your own control.”

“I was but I wasn’t,” James said, after another long pause. “It was like I – was looking at myself. Watching myself. I couldn’t stop, once I started, even if I’d wanted to.” His laugh was a short, grating sound. “Not that I did.”

Loki pressed his lips together and took a half step toward James, only to stop when his shoulders tensed. “It is perfectly understandable,” he said. “They attacked you. You reacted like a warrior.”

“I reacted like an assassin,” James said, voice short and harsh. “Not the same thing.” He shook himself. “Doesn’t matter. They’re dead, I’m not.”

“If you had not killed them I would,” Loki said easily. “And I am more concerned about the ones that you _didn’t_ kill. Gone scurrying back to their master to report on what happened.”

James shook his head, turning away from the wall and looking at Loki, his eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t stay here. That’s obvious.”

Loki frowned. “Simple enough to move you elsewhere.”

“Is it?” James shook his head. “You don’t live here, but I know Stark watches me. Doesn’t trust me, doesn’t like me. He won’t like the idea of having me out from under his thumb.”

“You do not think he will be relieved that you are no longer his problem?” Loki asked. James hesitated, and Loki shrugged. “I think little of the man. Perhaps even less than you do. But I do not think he would act in hostility toward you – at least not overtly. And I do not think he would risk your safety, if only for Steve’s sake.”

“He and Steve aren’t as good friends as they used to be,” James murmured. Loki made a sort of ‘hm’ noise, opening the door to the eleventh story and gesturing at James to go through, sweeping the hallway with his magic to ensure they were alone. “You haven’t noticed?”

“I do not see much of Stark these days,” Loki said, trying not to frown. Steve was always careful not to speak ill of any of his companions to Loki, and he understood why, but it still made some part of him uneasy that he had not known there was…friction, there.

“Maybe you’re right,” James said suddenly. “Like I said. Paranoia.”

“Sometimes that is the only thing that keeps you alive,” Loki said. James gave him a quick, wry look.

“You’re reassuring,” he said, but he sounded more like himself when he said it. Loki gave him a grim smile.

“I try my best.”

There were no clothes in Loki’s old rooms, but it was simple enough to summon a fresh set from James’s suite – he knew them well enough for that. He turned his back politely while James stripped out of his blood spattered clothes and took a fast shower – judging by the steam that billowed out after him, it must have been nearly scalding. Loki kept an eye on the windows while James changed, half expecting another assault.

None came, though, and their next visitor was Steve. He strode over to James, first, and pulled him into a quick, tight embrace. “Glad you’re all right,” he mumbled. James stood limp for a moment before responding in kind, and Loki noted the delay, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Probably he should make no more than that James was distressed and disoriented by the attack on his person. Loki could hardly blame him for that.

(And if it was more serious? If the intruders _had_ done something to him-)

“Tony’s on his way back,” Steve said, stepping back and gripping James’ shoulders for a moment before his hands dropped. “And looking at his systems to figure out where the breach was. In the meantime-”

“I can’t stay here,” James interrupted.

“Of course not,” Steve agreed. “If Loki’s all right with it, you can stay in the apartment while we figure out-”

“No,” James cut him off again. “I don’t mean _for now, until Stark looks at the problem._ I mean I can’t stay here, at all. Someone knew I was here, and they sent people for me. If one person or group figured it out, others can too. And if they thought it was worth trying once, they’ll try again.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “I understand, but this building is safer than upstate in terms of security-”

“And someone still managed to get to me,” James said. Loki could see the tension starting to gather in his body. “I don’t care how good Stark’s tech is. Someone knows I’m here. I’m not going to stay shut up in a tower, a sitting duck for anyone who wants to off the Winter Soldier.”

“James,” Loki said quietly. He nodded toward Steve, who looked stricken.

“Of course,” Steve said after a moment, a little faintly. “Of course, no one’s going to…you don’t have to stay here. Would…would upstate be better?”

“Yeah,” James said after a long moment. “It’d be better.” But still not, Loki thought, what James wanted. He was feeling the walls of his cage again, and Loki could not blame him. He knew how that felt.

“And while we cannot offer you more than a couch,” Loki said, “our apartment is open to you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” James said. His voice sounded a little short, but that struck Loki as better than dull or emotionless.

“Can you wait until Tony gets back?” Steve asked. “Just so we can update him on what’s going on.” For a moment Loki thought he saw a flash of mulish anger on James’ face, but it vanished quickly.

“Yeah,” James said. “It can wait.” His eyes met Loki’s very briefly, and he thought he could read the unspoken addition: _but if he tries to stop me there’s going to be blood._

* * *

Even with the aid of his suit, it took Stark a few hours to reach them. James was taciturn and restless. Eventually, he announced his intention to return to his rooms and pack some things. Steve scrambled to offer to go with him, but James refused, saying shortly that he needed some space to think.

“I’ll call you when Tony gets here,” Steve said, sounding almost plaintive, but James just jerked his head to the side.

“I don’t want to deal with Stark right now. Just tell me when we can leave.”

Steve looked forlornly after him as he left. Loki padded over and gave Steve’s shoulder a light squeeze. “I should have seen this coming,” Steve said. “Expected it, been better prepared for it…”

“You thought he was safe here,” Loki said. Steve’s expression twisted.

“I should know better than that,” he said, something bitter in his voice, and Loki remembered _exploding glass, pain searing along every nerve_ and almost flinched.

“James is safe. They were unsuccessful.”

“This time.” Steve sighed. “Sorry, I just – tired of feeling like I can’t protect anyone.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “When did you put a portal in Bucky’s room?”

“Very shortly after he began living here,” Loki said. “It gave him another place to go, and a means to keep his edge honed.” He pressed his lips together. “I will not apologize for it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to.” Steve rubbed his forehead. “Do you spar with him?”

“Yes,” Loki said after a brief pause. “We have…both found it helpful.”

Steve nodded slowly. “You didn’t tell me that. Neither of you.”

“I was uncertain how you would take it,” Loki said honestly. “Or if it was…against the rules in some way.” And he certainly wasn’t going to mention that their particular style of sparring tended to be more dangerous than most. Steve grimaced, but he nodded.

“I guess it’s a good thing,” he said a little grimly. “Though – _god._ I wanted Bucky out of…all this.”

“For him, for me,” Loki said, trying to be gentle, “I do not know that there is an out. At least not for good.” Steve said nothing in reply.

Stark called when he arrived – ‘don’t bother coming up, I’ll come to you’, Loki heard through Steve’s phone – and knocked on the door still held by Loki’s magic. He flicked his fingers to open it before Steve could get up.

“So I guess the dead bodies are upstairs,” Stark said as he came inside. “I can’t believe that’s a sentence I can say without wincing, now, god…”

“How did they get into your stronghold,” Loki asked, unwilling to wait for Stark to come around to the subject in his ceaseless rambling. Stark gave him a look.

“Why are you here? Steve, why is he here?”

“Specifically to plague you,” Loki said. “Will you answer the question?”

“I knew it. Getting a little pushy there, though, Steve, better put your boyfriend on a leash-”

“Tony,” Steve said, sounding weary and harried. “Please. How’d they get in?”

“Combination of smarts and luck,” Stark said. “Same way anyone ever breaks in. Only a lot more of both. They managed to partially jam the alarm system and came in from above – helicopter, I’m guessing? Well funded and well equipped. They were serious.”

Loki sneered. “Twelve people to capture one man. I daresay they were not coming for a party.”

“Given that Barnes cleaned up seven – eight? - of those twelve on his own, I think that number seems pretty reasonable,” Stark said. “But that’s beside the point. There’s money here, and resources.”

“What are you thinking?” Steve asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Stark shrugged.

“That no one’s stupid enough to launch an attack on me unless they’ve got powerful sponsors. Military or government level, at a guess.” He shrugged. “Though I guess there’s always HYDRA. Hey, Lokes. Next time do a better job with that extermination routine, huh?”

Loki’s hackles rose. “And where would these powerful people get the information that James is here,” he asked, perhaps a little pointedly.

“Maybe from the part where _someone_ tried to go murder happy in broad daylight in the middle of a city,” Stark said. “Point that finger at yourself first, before you look at _me._ ”

Steve sank down onto the couch. “So – the military. People might know that Bucky is here. And they’re trying to get to him.”

“Maybe,” Stark said. “ _Maybe._ Either way…I’d guess it’s not going to stay a secret much longer.”

Loki felt his skin prickle and Steve dropped his head forward into his hands. “God,” he said under his breath.

“You knew this was going to happen,” Stark said. “Right? Sooner or later word was going to get out and you were going to have to deal-”

“Not like this,” Steve said harshly, lifting his head. “Not with people trying to _attack_ him.”

“Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing,” Stark said. Steve’s eyes snapped to him, and Loki tensed. “Hey, wait, just a second. I mean – the news isn’t out, they’re trying to keep it on the down low. Why not turn that on them? I’m just saying - some kind of public trial, get a good lawyer, get his name cleared-”

“Put a target on his back,” Loki said flatly.

“There’s already one there,” Stark said, not even glancing at him. “Lose the fugitive status - make him official. Lean on the war hero-slash-brain control angle. Make everything legit and you can get Barnes actual protection, make it harder for black ops agents to drag him off and execute him in secret. And maybe not living in my tower anymore, that’d be cool.”

Steve was frowning, but Loki shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You rely on the largesse and forgiveness of your justice system - and what of the other nations where Barnes is wanted? What is to keep them from demanding restitution as well?”

“Did I miss the part where someone asked for his input?” Stark asked Steve.

“Barnes is my friend,” Loki said flatly. “And I would thank you not to speak as though I am not in the room.”

“Didn’t know you had friends,” Stark said blithely, “and I guess that was just wishful thinking. Could you not be in the room?”

“Tony,” Steve said, grimacing. “--Loki’s right. I don’t think it’s safe, at least not yet - Washington wasn’t that long ago. Bucky doesn’t want to stay here, anyway. He’s going to move upstate.”

Stark crossed his arms. “Are you worried about keeping Barnes safe, Cap, or keeping everyone safe from Barnes?” Steve’s spine went rigid, but Stark went on. “There’s some camera feed of the attack before it cut out. Watched it on my way over here.” He glanced at Loki. “You like your boys dangerous, don’t you?”

Loki’s lip curled. “Stop rambling and say what you mean, Stark.”

“Loki,” Steve said quellingly, but his eyebrows were furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Couldn’t possibly do it justice. You should just watch.” Stark shrugged one shoulder. “Suit yourself. I’m just looking at the writing on the wall. Sooner or later someone’s going to find out about your old pal and shit’s going to hit the fan. Might be better to choose how that happens than wait for someone to decide for you.” He turned and sauntered out. Loki looked after him, feeling his jaw clench.

“I do not like him,” he said flatly, once the door had closed. Steve sighed.

“I know,” he said dryly. “You’ve both made that pretty clear.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “And I know he doesn’t exactly…try to make it easy. But…” Steve trailed off, looking forlorn. “Do you think he has any kind of point? About Buck?”

“No,” Loki said, almost at once. “There are too many people who want him dead. Any one of them might be able to manipulate a trial in their favor. Or even if not – the moment he is out in the open, and chained, he is a helpless target.”

“But…won’t that always be true?” Steve said. Loki shrugged.

“You needn’t just take my word for it. Ask him what he thinks.”

“Yeah,” Steve said after a moment. “I’ll do that.” He rolled his shoulders back. “What…what do you think Tony meant about the security footage?”

 _I was the Winter Soldier again,_ Loki remembered James saying. He shook his head. “I would not dare to try to understand what Tony Stark thinks.”

Steve’s mouth flickered a little toward a weak smile even as he scolded, “Loki.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki said, waving a dismissive hand. “Play nice, I know. Now, shall we go fetch James and see about removing him from this dismal place?”

Steve caught his arm as he was turning to go. “Loki,” he said. “Thank you.” He sounded almost uncomfortably sincere, and it made Loki hesitate. “For getting me here so fast,” Steve clarified. “And for…being a friend, to Buck. Looking out for him. I appreciate it and I know he does too.”

Loki twitched a shoulder, suddenly awkward. “Yes, well. Tolerable company is few and far between. I have to make sure not to let it slip away when it arrives.”

Steve shook his head, half smiling. “You haven’t really gotten any better at accepting thanks, you know?” He said. Loki blinked innocently at him.

“I am sure I do not know what you are talking about.”

Steve just shook his head, but the half smile stuck.

* * *

They moved James into the compound for the most part without incident. Pietro glowered, but that was as likely to be about the permanent condition of his face and/or the fact of Loki’s presence than anything to do with James. Barton was away with his family, with Romanov’s firmly phrased _suggestion_ that they leave him alone, so that particular interaction was avoid - although Barton’s antipathy seemed to have cooled somewhat.

As for James himself - he seemed still tense, closed off, and quieter than usual, but Loki deemed it best not to press. Or at least, he would wait to do so until later, because the Avengers were being called out.

The Avengers and, it seemed, Loki.

“Why do you want me?” Loki asked, eyebrows lifted. “I have worked with your team very little. I can only claim to get along with one of them.”

“That’s not true,” Steve objected. “Wanda likes you. And Nat’s…” he trailed off.

“I would not say that the Widow _likes_ me,” Loki said dryly.

“She doesn’t _not_ like you,” Steve said, and added, “besides, we might really need you on this one.”

Loki frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There’s magic involved.” Loki stiffened immediately. Sorcerers on this realm were still rare, especially ones powerful enough to register on whatever primitive equipment was being used. They were becoming more common, to be sure – at least, the artifact-based magic that Loki personally sneered at – but hardly a regular occurrence.

“Tell me more,” he said. Steve walked over to the couch and sat down.

“You’re not going to like it,” he said after a brief pause.

“An ominous beginning.”

Steve looked at Loki, a slight twist to his lips. “It’s Latveria.”

Loki’s blood was briefly ice. _Magic_ twisted with _Latveria_ and he felt a phantom twinge from the faded scars on his chest, could have sworn he heard his voice, _how long could you last without your heart, I wonder._ He wasn’t dead, somehow he’d survived or Thor had been mistaken and now he was _back-_

“Loki?” Steve said, and he realized that he had frozen, staring at nothing and shivering. He took a deep breath and followed Steve in sitting down, gripping the arm of the chair hard. He avoided Steve’s gaze, not wanting to see the concern there. “It’s not him,” Steve said, when Loki stayed silent. “Loki…he’s dead.”

“Are you sure?” Loki whispered hoarsely. “Did you see the corpse?” He took a deep breath, clawing his way back toward calm. No. Steve was right, Doom was dead. He would not let his country fall into ruin if he still lived. “No – never mind,” he said. “Go on.”

Steve studied him, eyebrows knitted together, but after several seconds he looked away. “There’ve been…murmurings, but nothing definite. Someone raising a militia to overthrow the provisional government. Yesterday we got intel that there are plans to make a move – and more information about the leader.”

“What kind of information?” Loki asked, desperate for something to hold onto that wasn’t the shadows rearing their ugly heads.

Steve shook his head. “Not much. We know there’s magic, that it’s a new player, that it’s something big and they’re targeting a biological research center.”

Loki tensed. “A research center?” Such a place, he thought, must have received funding from Doom. And if Doom had _funded_ it…

Steve blinked, and understanding dawned on his face. “Do you think…?”

Loki shook his head in a sharp jerk. “I have no way of knowing if he…took anything. I would not think that – he would let anything - _valuable_ out from his direct control. But it is possible.” Loki swallowed hard, convulsively. His stomach turned and he focused on keeping his breathing under tight control.

His being had recoiled at the idea of a single small vial of his blood in SHIELD’s custody. This could be _much_ worse.

“We’ll be there,” Steve said. “Make sure nothing happens. We can get access to the facility, too, make sure that there’s nothing there…that shouldn’t be. All right?” He squeezed Loki’s shoulder, plainly trying to catch his gaze. Loki met Steve’s eyes, only slightly reluctant.

“It seems there is more than one reason for me to come along, then,” Loki said, trying to sound as though his stomach were not clenching with unease. “Latveria. How delightful.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said reassuringly. “And it’ll be good. Give the new folks a chance to work with you.”

Loki half smiled. “You are still determined to see me don the mantle of _Avenger,_ are you?” Steve did not quite flush.

“Not _determined,_ ” he said. “I just think you should keep an open mind.”

“I doubt all of your comrades would feel similarly,” Loki said, but some part of him was grateful all the same.

* * *

“Nat, do you see anything?”

“Not yet. No movement from our watchman.” Loki shifted. It was stuffy and overwarm in the room where he was hanging back with Steve as the others performed reconnaissance.

He didn’t like it – staying back like this, out of sight – but he could recognize the wisdom of it. Keeping him hidden, a trump card for them to play when their adversary emerged. Still, it certainly wasn’t _satisfying._

“Sam?”

“All’s quiet on the ground so far. How do we know they’re not just going to teleport inside?”

“The building is warded to prevent it,” Loki said. It made his skin crawl, that warding. He didn’t have to wonder whose work that was; he recognized it easily enough.

“So they’re going to have to approach from the front,” Sam said.

“Unless they already have someone on the inside,” Romanov said.

“Even then,” Loki said. “They would have to enter the usual way, or else use force.” Loki flexed his fingers.

“And we don’t know anything about who we’re looking for?” The Maximoff brother sounded faintly irritated; Loki could picture the look on his face.

“From what we hear it’s not going to be subtle,” Romanov said. “This is as much about showing power as it is about getting anything out of the facility itself. Do we have any more information about what they might be after?”

“No,” Steve said. “The Latverian government doesn’t like us very much and is barely holding together as is. They might not even know – Maria couldn’t get in touch with anyone from the lab itself.”

Loki paced away from Steve and over to one of the windows, looking out. From here, he could see the target: a silvery building with few windows. His skin started crawling again, trying to imagine what sorts of things might be happening, what kinds of projects might have continued, with Doom’s knowledge, under his aegis, even after his death.

( _If he was dead,_ some stubborn corner of Loki’s mind continued to whisper.)

He fell still, suddenly, frowning. “There’s something,” he said, and stopped, uncertain.

“Loki?”

“A moment,” Loki said, half closing his eyes and stretching out his senses. “Witch, do you sense anything amiss?”

“She has a name,” her brother said, and the witch over him, “amiss how?”

There was something faintly familiar to it, Loki thought. Some memory tickling at him, but he could not quite reach what it was. “I am not certain.”

“Wait,” the witch said suddenly. “I think I feel what you were talking about.”

“What’s that?” Sam asked, at the same time Romanov said, “someone approaching our lookout. Female, maybe five foot eleven, blonde.”

“Oh, shit,” Romanov said under her breath. “Is that who I think it is?”

The hair on the back of Loki’s neck prickled uneasily, and he closed his eyes to focus. Then opened them. “Romanov, move,” he said sharply. “We’ve been thinking about this wrong. She isn’t going to target the facility-”

“She?” Steve said.

“Shit – she made me,” Romanov said, speaking quickly. “I’m moving.”

“Who’s ‘she’?” Steve asked him. “Why would the target not be – oh.” Loki heard the moment he understood. “Amora. You think…? She’s never done anything like this before.”

“Perhaps not yet, but she’s always been ambitious.” Loki had dismissed her, assumed that she’d bored of Midgard. _Foolish._

“Amora?” Maximoff said blankly.

“Her name is Amora,” Loki interrupted. “She is Aesir – not formally an exile only because she vanished before she was tried.” He turned to Steve. “There is nothing she would need from Doom’s - _researches_ that she does not already have or could not get by – other means. She would aim higher.”

“Higher?” Steve asked sharply. “Like what?”

“Officials,” Loki said. “Leaders, people of power and influence. If she wants to take control – and I am sure she does – she would start at the top.”

Romanov swore. “I just got an alert,” she said. “It’s claiming emergency evacuation of high level personnel. Two main locations for pick-up.”

“Which is more central,” Loki asked.

“School gymnasium,” Romanov said. She sounded out of breath. “You think that’s our target?”

“I am at the gymnasium,” the witch’s brother said, and he did not sound out of breath. “No sign of anything here-”

“Something’s wrong,” the witch said. “Pietro-”

Loki heard a quiet “oh” over the communicator. A moment later he felt a surge of magic, and damn, damn and _blast-_

“Steve,” he said, and then louder, “the location of the gymnasium, Romanov, _now._ ”

She rattled off the address. “Pietro?” She added, voice sharp. Still running, judging by the sound of her breathing. “What’s happening?”

“It’s beautiful,” Loki heard. “She’s beautiful.” Maximoff’s voice sounded strange, almost awed. Loki’s stomach plummeted and he swore. His step into space was blind, but he took it anyway, and stepped out in front of an unremarkable building. Amora was standing maybe 100 yards away. This close, he could feel the crackle of her magic spider across his skin, but his shields held firm. Unlike Maximoff, on his knees in front of her, eyes glazed.

Amora’s head cocked slightly to the side. “Loki,” she said, the corners of her lips twitching. “What a _pleasant_ surprise to see you out of your cage.”

Loki’s only response was to snap three runes that turned into green snakes wrapping around her body to bind her, but Amora flicked a hand before they’d even fully formed and swept his magic aside. Loki blinked.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ve learned some things, darling Loki. Try to keep up.”

“Loki?” He heard Steve say, alarm in his voice. Loki started to weave another working without replying, but something slammed into his solar plexus and knocked him back and off his feet.

“Don’t touch her,” Maximoff snarled, and oh, _lovely._

“What the hell is – we’re on our way,” Sam said, as Loki rolled out of the way of Maximoff’s fists and threw a bolt of fire at Amora; the curse she cast in answer would have turned air to ash in Loki’s lungs if he hadn’t blocked it.

“Now would be a good time for you to come and collect your brother, _völvlinga_ ,” Loki said. The witch’s brother moved fast. Even with Loki’s speed it would be difficult to counter him, and fighting on two fronts would only make that harder, whatever Amora was planning no doubt ticking away-

“What did she do to-“ He could hear the rage in the witch’s voice before she was cut off when a lucky blow smashed the communicator in his ear and he dropped with a cry, eardrums throbbing.

“You’ve lost your touch!” He heard Amora say gleefully, and he bared his teeth. Gunfire signaled – someone’s arrival, he guessed Romanov’s, and he was dimly aware of soldiers firing but could not tell for certain if they were Amora’s or not. Steve and Sam-

He would just have to trust that they could take care of themselves.

Maximoff knocked him off his feet again while he was trying to form a working to remove the oxygen from around Amora, and he was _done._ Loki heard himself snarl and this time he caught the fist going for his face. He twisted, flipping them over, and if he was _sorely_ tempted to punch Maximoff into unconsciousness he ended up using magic to stun him instead, in the second he was able to hold him.

When he looked up it was to see Wanda looking at him with wide eyes. Loki shoved himself to his feet. “He’ll be up in a moment,” he said. “Amora was using him.”

“And who is this,” Amora said, her eyes narrowing as she turned toward the witch. The witch, whose expression had gone hard.

“Wanda Maximoff,” she said. Amora smirked.

“You’ve found a protégé, Loki,” she said. “Does she know how much better she could do for teachers?”

Loki shifted to attack at the same time Wanda did, and Loki almost grinned as Amora’s smile dropped away.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten what it’s like to fight a worthy opponent!” He shouted, a flash of glee singing through him. Amora wheeled, her teeth bared, and Loki grinned at her.

She moved, whip quick, throwing something like a small ball of light. He caught it and crushed it, feeling only the slightest odd tingle up his arm. “Really?” He said, summoning all his scorn. He could make her sloppy that way. Careless, distracted. “Is that the best you can do?” He reached for his magic and jerked as a wave of intense dizziness rolled through him, the ground lurching under his feet. His magic came, but…slowly. Responding to his command but one second, two seconds too late-

Confused and disoriented, Amora’s fireball smashed into him with all its force. He shouted at the pain as the fire flashed his gauntlets searing hot, the heat singing his eyebrows as it threw him back and off his feet.

“Loki!” He heard Wanda cry, and through the ringing in his ears was almost touched. Loki tried to summon ice to counter the fire trying to burn through his leather, but the sluggishness of the response was _agonizing._

Swearing, Loki rolled behind some cover and squeezed his eyes closed so he didn’t have to see what he was doing, yanking off his right gauntlet and clamping his hand over the burn. He almost moaned at the near instant relief, but he kept his eyes closed until the gauntlet was cool too and he could put it back on and shift back.

“You _dare!_ ” Amora’s scream of rage was music to his ears. He stole out from cover again, still wrestling with his magic’s slowness.

Amora’s attention was focused entirely on one red-clad witch wading toward her. Wanda’s teeth were gritted and her hair lifted around her with the charge of energy flowing through her, but she was holding her own – more than, she was _gaining ground_. Amora’s expression went from incredulity to fury, and Loki felt a very small touch of pride.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, a touch of spellcraft, and Loki saw the soldier sprinting toward Wanda. “Witch,” Loki shouted, and she turned her head, attention diverting for a split second. With a lesser sorcerer it wouldn’t have mattered. With Amora-

Even as he reached for his magic to shield Wanda from whatever Amora was going to do, he realized too late that he’d misunderstood. She flicked her fingers in a quick, graceful gesture, but the casting wasn’t directed at Wanda.

Too _slow._ She turned, did the right thing, the _smart_ thing, defending herself from the closest attacker. Her magic touched the spell at the soldier’s core like a flame set to oil.

Loki heard Wanda scream and tried to brace for the blast, but-

She was holding it. Loki stared at her, her scarlet magic binding the seething mass of magical energy, but the strain was clear in her white face.

“Wanda!” Loki heard her brother cry.

“Don’t!” He snapped. “Don’t distract her, keep your distance-”

She gritted her teeth and twisted, flinging it skyward. It should have been enough.

It might have been pain, or simply the effort, or anything. Loki felt her shield give and tried to reach out with his own pathetic attempt at magic to help, too late.

He felt the explosion like a rattle in his teeth and the white flash blinded him for a moment. He staggered, staring upward. Amora, of course, was gone. The windows of the nearest buildings were blown out, and the electrical grid would be dead around them for a long ways.

“That wasn’t...so bad,” Sam said warily, coming over and offering Loki a hand up. He shook his head.

“Just because there isn’t smoke,” he said.

“The wounded,” Steve said, “we need to...Wanda, are you okay?”

Pietro was there, of course, arm around her shoulders. The witch still looked stunned and didn’t answer. Loki licked his lips.

“There won’t be any wounded here,” he said. “Anyone within twenty paces of the epicenter is...gone. The next thirty paces will have died instantly. After that…” Loki swallowed hard, feeling vaguely nauseous. He’d seen the aftermath of this once before. Only once, and he’d been sick then, unable to care about so little a thing as shame. “After that, you may be able to save some. Maybe.”

Sam recovered first. “How big a radius,” he asked.

“I am not certain. A quarter of a mile, maybe. Toward the fringes it...won’t be as bad.”

“Hell,” Sam said, voice rough. Loki closed his eyes. He should have seen this coming. He _knew_ Amora. Had known. But this was brutal even for her. He shook himself a moment later and opened them.

“Let’s go,” Romanov said. “I’ll tell emergency services they’re clear to come in.” It wasn’t a question, but she paused anyway – for objections, Loki assumed. He made none. “Other than…people. Is there going to be infrastructure damage?”

Loki shook his head fractionally. “No. Electrical grids will be down, but no more than that.” He glanced at Steve, who was looking at Wanda.

“Right,” Romanov said. The emotion was ironed out of her voice. “Come on, let’s move. Loki…”

“I shall recuse myself, seeing as I doubt I would be a reassuring rescuer,” Loki said somewhat dryly. He stayed where he was while the others moved away, thoughts whispering, poisonous, _you should have stopped this._ He watched Wanda shake off her brother’s arm and walk away from him, and wondered vaguely if he ought to offer something. He decided that he was hardly the most comforting of presences.

 _Useless,_ whispered a poisonous voice at the back of his mind. _You could have stopped this. You should have seen it coming._

* * *

Steve sent him home. Sent him, like he was a child or a dog, but Loki went without protest. There was little he could do. He occupied the time in pacing, going over what he might have done differently and watching different news reports on _the explosion of mysterious origin_ in Latveria. He could sense the fear radiating out of all of them: fear of the unknown and their own helplessness. And anger.

Amora was an unknown. There was an easier target: the heroes they thought should have saved them.

At five Loki got a text that read simply, _can I talk to you?_ It was from the witch, and he stared at it for several long seconds before replying.

_I suppose. Where?_

_My room, upstate._

Loki rolled his shoulders back with a grimace before texting back his assent. Steve was still gone. Loki wondered what he was doing: what kind of damage control he might be trying to perform.

He went to the Avengers facility and found his way to Maximoff’s room, rapping lightly on the door to announce himself. It opened a sliver, and when she saw him opened wider. “Loki,” she said, voice quiet, subdued.

“You called,” he said, carefully neutral. Their relationship was…somewhat peculiar, and hard to define. Or at least, hard for Loki. At least her brother’s loathing was clear.

“Yes,” she said, looking at her hands rather than at him. “I wanted to speak about…what happened in Latveria.”

Loki shifted. “Reassurance is not one of my skills, Ms. Maximoff, and I suspect you know it.”

The look she cast him was an odd combination of miserable and determined. “I don’t want reassurance.” Loki translated that as _I do not deserve reassurance_ and felt a pang. “You said you’d seen a spell like that before.”

“Once, yes.”

“Could I have stopped it?”

Loki hesitated. “What do you mean by ‘could’?” The witch gave him a sharp look, frowning. “I am not being pedantic. By one understanding, if you _could_ have – if you had been able – then you would have. You didn’t, so you were not able. By another, you are asking if in a million possible worlds it would be conceivable that events transpired differently – in which case the answer is yes.”

The witch seemed to crumple slightly inward. “I should have been able to contain it.”

Loki considered her, thinking, but his words were…not considered. “I could not have.”

Her head turned to stare at him. Loki turned a little away but kept a sidelong gaze on her. “You couldn’t?” She said at length.

“No,” Loki said. “I could not last time I encountered the same spell.” Wanda looked at him, her eyebrows knitted together like she was waiting. Loki sighed. “It isn’t a particularly interesting story. Thor and I were visiting Alfheim on some diplomatic errand or another. While we were there, a faction of…I suppose you could call them religious extremists, attacked. The guard trapped them in the lower city, but they…the Ljosalfar rely greatly on mages for their defensive corps. When a coven came to help manage the situation…” He trailed off, letting her fill in the rest.

“Oh,” the witch said, a little faintly. “And you were…”

“I thought I could help. I could not.”

“I’m sorry,” the witch said after a moment. Loki gave her a sharp look.

“I was not telling you so that you might feel _sorry_ for me. That is hardly the point.”

“I know,” she said. “But-” She stopped, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

“The point is,” Loki said, “it is foolish for you to castigate yourself for not containing this spell, when I, who even then had had a great deal more training than you, could not manage it. Frankly, I was surprised that you contained it at all for as long as you did.” _And perhaps if I hadn’t foolishly underestimated Amora I might have been able to help._ “That is all.”

The witch did not look convinced, but at least she also did not look, perhaps, quite so morose as she had. He could tell there was still something she wished to say, though, and waited. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said anything to me about your past,” she said.

“You already know plenty of the sordid details,” Loki said dryly, and perhaps a little unkindly. Maximoff only winced a little, though.

“That’s not what I mean,” she said. “I mean – about your life before all of this.”

Loki shrugged. “It is hardly relevant, for the most part.” And much of it he still could not think about too long without feeling – bruised. “This was, so I told you.”

“Thank you,” Maximoff said. Loki eyed her, trying to puzzle out exactly what he was being thanked for, and finally twitched it off.

“No matter. You asked a question.”

The witch looked at him again for a long moment, then smiled weakly. “You’re not half as bad as you sometimes pretend you are.”

“That’s true.” Loki turned to see Steve leaning against the doorway of the witch’s room, arms crossed. His eyebrows were furrowed, but there was a very faint smile on his lips. Loki snorted.

“High praise, the pair of you,” he said dryly. “Captain, perhaps you should tell Ms. Maximoff that she hardly deserves to take the credit for the incident in Latveria.”

“She doesn’t,” Steve said promptly. Loki gestured in the witch’s direction.

“There you have it.”

“If anyone’s to blame,” Steve went on, and Loki gave him a sharp look.

“If you are about to say _it’s me,_ please refrain,” he said. “You will just give the witch ideas.” He caught a twitch of Maximoff’s mouth out of the corner of his eye like she was trying not to smile. Steve grimaced at him.

“I am supposed to be the leader here,” Steve said. “That means it’s my responsibility.”

“You see how foolish it sounds,” Loki said to Wanda. “ _I_ can say with some confidence that this entire disaster was Amora’s responsibility from start to finish. I am sure she would be proud to agree.”

Steve shook his head. “Where are you going?”

“Giving you some privacy,” Loki said, glancing between him and the witch. “I assumed you had some wisdom you wished to share.” Steve’s cheeks went a little pink, but he reached out after a moment and touched Loki’s arm.

“Don’t go far,” he said. “I want to talk to you about some stuff.”

Loki tried not to feel a prickle of nerves. He leaned in and kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I’ll be with James,” he said, and slipped out.

The compound felt unnervingly quiet – like everyone in it was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Loki could understand why. He could feel it too, the sense that there was something coming. He wished he knew what to expect.

Loki knocked lightly on the door to James’s quarters. He heard quiet footsteps on the floor and could picture James looking through the peephole; a moment later the lock disengaged and he opened the door. Loki blinked once before smoothing his expression, though he felt a prickle of worry for how wretched James looked.

“Heard Latveria was a shit show,” he said, by way of greeting. Loki smiled wryly.

“You did not hear incorrectly.”

James stepped back and Loki took the invitation and watched him check the hallway in both directions before he closed the door again. “Want a beer?”

“No, thank you,” Loki said, dropping onto one of the chairs. “I have never understood the appeal.”

James shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He took a bottle out of the fridge and sprawled on the couch, playing with it and looking at Loki through hooded eyes. Loki cocked his head to the side.

“What is it?”

He jerked his head at the TV mounted on the wall. “News can’t stop running the footage. There’s a lot of anger, a lot of confusion. I don’t like the looks of it.”

“How do you mean?”

“Fear is dangerous, and people are scared,” James said. “You were there, right? Is your face going to turn up on one of these broadcasts?”

Loki shook his head. “It should not. I am…careful about that sort of thing, as a rule, and certainly was this time. I have no interest in having a mob screaming for my blood at our door.” He rolled his shoulders back. “Do you not think you are fretting too much?”

James’s expression flattened. “Now _you_ think I’m being paranoid.”

Loki scoffed. “Hardly. Remember what I said about survival? I am the last person to accuse anyone of being _paranoid._ But I do wonder if you aren’t looking for things to worry over that are not…your circumstances.”

“My circumstances,” James echoed, and stood up, pacing jerkily over to the window. “You mean the part where I’m wanted in most parts of the world as a murderer and apparently someone wants to drag me back into – that?” Loki looked at his back, waiting, and James’ shoulders slumped. “Sorry.”

“You needn’t apologize.”

“Yeah? Maybe I should, though.” James glanced over his shoulder. “I know I’m not the only one carrying around a reputation. I’m surprised _you’re_ not more worried.” Loki cocked his head in inquiry. “No one’s identified the attacker yet,” James said, “but don’t you think sooner or later someone’s going to put together ‘magic’ and ‘alien’ and come up with you? Or even if not – even if it does get pinned on this Amora chick – it’s going to remind everyone about the dangers of alien magic – which again, comes back to you. And the Lokispotting boards are still pretty active.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “You checked?”

James shrugged one shoulder. “I have a lot of time, and I can’t spend all of it on Netflix. It’s more entertaining than looking at the ones about the Winter Soldier.” A bleak note slid into his voice briefly, but it was gone again in a moment. “Apparently you spent last weekend in Aruba.”

“If only,” Loki said, letting the corner of his mouth tick up. He studied James, and added, “what else is bothering you?”

James took a swallow of beer and looked too casually away. “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

“Call it an instinct.”

James rubbed at his mouth. “I’ve got plenty to be bothered by.”

“Is this about the intruders who attacked you?” Loki asked, sitting down opposite James. “I can place other safeguards on your rooms, if it would ease your mind.”

James shook his head. “No offense, but it’d just make it feel more like a cell.” He rolled his shoulders back and popped his neck. “It’s not just about that, either.”

“You’re afraid of what they might make you,” Loki said. James cut him a quick, sharp look, but glanced away just as fast.

“Not exactly,” he said. “It’s just. Like I told you. It wasn’t like when I was with you, or when we spar. It was like something just went off in my brain and I wasn’t-” He cut off, a tic spasming in his jaw.

“Your programming is gone,” Loki said, trying not to sound overly gentle. James twitched.

“Are you sure?”

Loki tried not to feel stung by the question. It was only natural, he told himself, for James to doubt what he was told. Especially when he had no way of knowing what Loki had done, or how his magic worked. “I am sure,” he said. James chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” he said at length. “But you said that – no one had managed to take your will from you, either.”

Loki’s stomach lurched and he flinched, flashes of memory searing into his mind, clawing for control and losing by inches, fingerprint bruises around Steve’s throat. He couldn’t help but feel a stab of betrayal. “It is easier to be certain of someone else’s mind than my own,” he said finally, but his voice sounded brittle.

“Yeah,” James said after a moment, sounding awkward. Wishing he hadn’t said anything, Loki thought. “Sure.” He rolled the beer bottle between his hands, clinking softly against the metal one.

“That sort of reaction could just as easily be survival instinct driven by fear,” Loki said. His voice sounded flat and he knew it, but he was still recovering his composure – a small, unfair part of him was angry with James for mentioning it at all, the _thing_ he tried not to think about.

“Maybe.” James did not sound convinced.

“Is there something you _do_ wish to do?” Loki asked. James grimaced and scratched his forehead.

“I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry for bringing it up. The shit with…what happened. I just…” He trailed off, looking down at his lap and let out a bark of a bitter laugh. “I don’t know what’d be worse: if HYDRA’s still trying to pull me back in or if someone else has decided the Winter Soldier’s a prize they have to have.”

“I will not say you are safe,” Loki said at length. “I think we both know that is never truly the case. But…of anywhere, this is probably the safest place you could be.”

James jerked his head in a brief nod after a long pause. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess it is.”

* * *

It was Steve who suggested they spend the night at the compound. “Everyone’s shaken up,” he said to Loki, in private. “Not just Wanda. Sam’s taking it pretty hard, and I know Bucky’s…stressed, too. Just seems like a good idea to stay close.”

Loki didn’t argue. He considered telling Steve what he and James had discussed and decided against it, though Steve brought it up when they were curled up sharing Steve’s bed in the compound, Loki’s chest to Steve’s back. “How does Bucky seem to you?”

“As you said,” Loki said carefully. “Stressed, certainly. Uneasy, I think. Hardly surprising, given unfamiliar surroundings and the circumstances of his relocation.”

“And you think that’s all it is?” Steve sounded…careful. Like he was stepping around something. Loki couldn’t decide if it was that he didn’t want to say it or didn’t know how; perhaps both.

“What else would it be?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, a little too quickly. “Nothing, probably. Or I mean – like you said, just having a hard time getting settled-”

“Steve,” Loki said gently, and felt him sigh. He pulled away and rolled over.

“What Tony said…”

Loki scoffed. “Stark says a lot of things and I only listen to half of them. You will have to be more specific.”

“What he said about Bucky,” Steve clarified, and oh, Loki remembered. _You like your boys dangerous._ He stiffened. “I don’t. I _don’t_ think Buck’s a danger to people,” Steve added quickly. “But I did…when he was fighting them…I don’t know.”

Loki felt his lips twist. “Are you worried he is somehow losing control of himself?” He asked bluntly. Steve’s shoulders slumped and he looked over Loki’s shoulder.

“I don’t _believe_ it,” Steve said. “But – worried? Maybe. I don’t think he’ll _turn_ on us, or anything. But if something set him off, unexpectedly…”

“He was already pushed to the breaking point once,” Loki said after a moment’s pause. “I think James is more resilient than you give him credit for.”

“I guess that could be,” Steve admitted. “It still feels like…” His voice shrank, going nearly inaudible. “I failed him once. I’m…scared I’ll do it again.”

Loki pulled Steve in close and kissed his lips. “You act as though his fate is in your hands alone,” he said carefully, quietly. “It is not. Others share that burden, not least James himself.” The thought flickered across his mind: _if you are worried about anyone losing control, I daresay it should be me,_ but that was too dark to consider and Loki still did not have any way of addressing it. No use in giving Steve something else to be upset about.

Steve pressed closer to him, tangling his legs with Loki’s. “I guess that’s true,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t borrow trouble. We’ve got enough to deal with already.”

“More than,” Loki agreed. “Though if you’re finding your mind insufficiently occupied…” He nuzzled into Steve’s neck, nipping lightly at the skin under his jaw. Steve huffed but didn’t push him away. The bed might be small but it was big enough.

The morning came early, though, with the ringing of Steve’s phone.

“Steve,” Loki heard Romanov say through the phone. “You need to get up and get dressed. The Secretary of State is coming up here.”

Loki stiffened and Steve sat up sharply. “What?”

“You heard me.” Steve fumbled the phone down and turned on speaker. “I’m actually _glad_ right now that Bruce isn’t here, all things considered.” That seemed more of an aside than anything, as Romanov added a second later, “at any rate, he didn’t say what exactly this was about, but I bet you can make one guess.”

“Latveria,” Steve said heavily.

“You got it. I’m guessing the short notice was intentional, too. I think we want everyone on deck for this one.”

Steve glanced at Loki. “Everyone?” He said carefully. There was a pause, and Loki felt his mouth twitch, imagining the expression on Romanov’s face.

“You have me on speaker, don’t you,” she said, not really a question. “Bucky…I’d leave him out of it. Loki – you can make it so Ross won’t see you, right?”

“Indeed,” Loki said.

“Good,” Romanov said. “Then be there. Just to watch and listen.” Perhaps both his and Steve’s startlement was audible, because she added, “you’ve got more of a brain for the politics game than anyone else on this team except for me. A second pair of eyes could be useful.” That should not have pleased Loki as much as it did.

“You’re planning this like it’s a battle, Natasha,” Steve said.

“Do you know that it’s not?” Her voice was light, but Loki suspected the words were serious. “I’ll see you soon, Steve. We’re meeting in Conference Room 7.” She hung up. Steve moved slowly to do the same.

“What do you think he wants?” Loki asked. Steve shook his head.

“I don’t know. Could be anything.” He rubbed his temples. “Apparently there was a coalition of relief workers in one of the buildings that got hit. Included some Wakandan nationals.”

Loki cocked his head. “Is their ruler not a friend of yours?”

“I’d say so,” Steve said after a hesitation. “But he’s protective of his people, and he didn’t respond to my call. Maybe Ross is just coming to yell at us about his diplomatic headache.” Steve was trying too hard not to sound worried.

“Well,” Loki said, “regardless, you should probably obey the Widow’s orders and get dressed. Unless you plan to attend your meeting like this.” He gave Steve a pointed once over that brought a flush to his face. He shoved Loki back and climbed out of bed.

“With any luck,” Steve said, “this’ll be something we can resolve easily.”

* * *

It wasn’t. That much was clear immediately from Secretary Thaddeus Ross’s posture and tone, even as he greeted the Avengers with perfect politeness – though Loki noticed the way he glanced toward the Maximoff twins. Sam looked cautious and guarded. Stark was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on another one, tossing something from hand to hand.

The most disquieting presence for him was the android. He might wear a sweater and slacks but Loki did not know that he would ever be able to shake the unease he felt around him. Not least after…it might have been a service, whatever he’d done to shake the Titan loose, but it made Loki distinctly nervous that he could be so easily overcome.

Perhaps he ought to be grateful to know that it was possible, but Loki could not quite find it in himself.

“I want to start by saying that I recognize everything you’ve done for us – for the world,” Ross said, once the greetings were finished. “Time and again, you’ve risked your lives stopping extraordinary threats. The Avengers have done good work, and we thank you for that.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “But?”

“But,” Ross said, giving Sam a polite nod, “it has also become increasingly evident that…the current state of affairs is untenable. The Avengers were a team that came together – somewhat haphazardly – originally conceived as part of a secret agency that has since been discredited.” Loki wondered idly what the resurrected SHIELD would think of that judgment. He saw Romanov shift, her eyes narrowing.

“The Avengers were never tied to SHIELD.”

“Not officially,” Ross said. “But Captain Rogers participated in field missions for them, and you and Clint Barton were agents before you were Avengers. Regardless – the point is that your group came into being because there was a crisis and a need.” Loki’s name hung unsaid in the air, and he almost wished someone would say it. “And yet, ever since, you have continued to operate in a peculiar grey area. You are not affiliated with any government or organization. You have no defined rules or charter. In short, you have operated without oversight or constraint over your actions.”

Steve was frowning. “We’re able to be effective because of that. We can respond directly and quickly to threats-”

“With what consequences?” Ross interrupted. He reached for a remote and pressed a button. The screen behind him turned on. “New York.”

Loki’s stomach dropped but he could not help but look. He wasn’t visible, but Loki knew where he was nonetheless. The screen cut to shaky camera footage of a street, chaos, people screaming. “Billions of dollars in damage and hundreds of casualties,” Ross said solemnly. “No small amount of that caused by Bruce Banner – the Hulk.” The pace of Stark’s tossing had increased.

“Washington, D.C.,” Ross went on. “Major damage in the heart of the capital. Casualties not just in the crashes themselves, but earlier in the shootout on the freeway.” James, Loki thought. He remembered watching that footage. The chaos, the confusion. Sam sat up.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “That _shootout_ was an attempt to kill me, Steve, and Natasha. An attempt orchestrated by the _Secretary of Defense._ Or were you just going to leave that out?”

Ross glanced at Sam. “Whatever the cause, the damage _was_ done. As a result of your actions. Your presence on that freeway endangered civilians – cost some of their lives. I’m not blaming you for that, Mr. Wilson-”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sam muttered.

“--but we do have to recognize the facts.” He pressed another button. “As in Sokovia.”

The witch’s eyes, Loki saw, were fixed on the image of her city tearing itself out of the ground and rising. She looked frozen. Her brother laid a hand on her arm and squeezed.

“And two days ago,” Ross went on. “In Latveria, where, once again, you entered the country without authorization and initiated a battle that ended in the greatest disaster that country has seen in decades.”

Wanda made a very small sound, probably inaudible to most in the room, her fingers twitching toward her mouth. “All right, that’s enough,” Steve said, his voice hardening. “Shut it off. You’ve made your point.”

Loki’s phone vibrated and he took it out and glanced at it. It was from James: _how’s it going down there,_ no punctuation. Loki had informed him what was going on, or at least the loose details of it. It seemed an insult to leave him entirely in the dark.

Loki frowned, wrote _It is stupidity and foolishness. Ross seeks to blame every disaster on those who averted them._

“I’m not done, Captain Rogers,” Ross said. Footage of a ruin filled the screen, followed by more of people rioting. Loki’s mouth went dry, looking at the text on the bottom of the screen. “The whole reason for the instability in Latveria. Thor, an Avenger _and_ an alien, _murders_ a nation’s leader for reasons that _still_ haven’t been adequately explained. And what happens? _Nothing._ He’s faced no charges, no consequences, and is free to vanish – unless one of you knows where he is? No?”

Stark shifted, looking uncomfortable. “He went home.”

“You think. Do you have any confirmation on that?” Ross didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s clear that you don’t have any kind of control over your own teammates’ actions.”

 _I could tell you that trying to control Thor is an exercise in futility,_ Loki thought, but the wryness was somewhat spoiled by the reminder that he had no idea what was going on in Asgard, and no easy way of finding out.

Pietro stiffened and Wanda hunched her shoulders a little more. “This is not a military group with a commander and soldiers following orders,” he said scornfully.

“Maybe it should be.”

Loki looked at his phone so he didn’t have to look at the portrait of Victor that was now being flashed on screen. _doesn’t look good for us outlaws, does it,_ the most recent text from James read. The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched and he wrote back, _we will survive. As we do._

“I’m guessing you have a solution, Secretary Ross,” Steve said, his voice dangerously mild.

“I do.” Ross brought out a thick sheaf of paper and pushed it across the table. “This. The Avengers can no longer operate as a private group, free of oversight. There needs to be a system in place. The Sokovia Accords will provide that.”

Steve pulled the papers toward him. “Who’s giving the oversight,” he asked. Loki was almost relieved by the audible wariness in his voice.

“It’s all in there,” Ross said. “Read it over. The signing is this Tuesday; I hope to see all of you there.”

Romanoff leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “And what if we say no?” She asked.

“Then I’m afraid there won’t be any more Avengers,” Ross said. “The situation as it currently stands is clearly unsustainable.”

“And getting rid of your only effective defense against threats like Ultron is more sustainable?” Sam asked.

“We’d rather work with you than against you,” Ross said, his voice hardening. “But the Avengers have shown themselves to be a dangerous group willing to take unilateral action that leaves behind hundreds of casualties and millions if not billions in property damage. What’s more,” Ross said, his eyes moving around the room, “it’s become increasingly clear that the Avengers feel they can flaunt the law - _any_ law - with impunity.”

“What are you trying to say,” Pietro snapped. “Stop talking in circles.”

Ross barely even glanced at him, his eyes mostly on Stark. Either he thought he was most vulnerable or thought he was in charge. “Nothing you can think of that might be relevant? No?” He paused, and when they all just stared at him went on, “I sent copies of the files over to Mr. Stark this morning.”

Loki felt his skin prickle uneasily, tensing. Steve shifted. “What files?”

Stark grimaced, and after a long moment said, “Friday, go ahead.” The screen behind Ross switched on and video footage began playing. For a moment, Loki didn’t recognize it; it was an odd angle on an open square. There was no sound. The few people moving around stopped, abruptly, turning and then starting to run. A moment later someone burst into the square, and even in the blurry footage Loki realized what he was watching and fell perfectly still. He heard Steve inhale too, short and sharp.

The man running jerked to a halt and then into the air. He saw Wanda’s eyebrows furrow, leaning forward - she hadn’t seen this, he realized. On his heels, Loki saw himself stalk into the square, James only a little behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment, a mixture of fury and despair washing through him. Steve looked pale.

The video ran through to Steve’s arrival, just visible with Sam behind him. Thankfully, it stopped before Steve embraced either him or James, but it was still damning evidence aplenty. Steve was clearly trying not to move, probably afraid that he was going to give away Loki’s presence. “Where did you get that?” Sam asked, his voice a little harsh.

“I don’t think that’s an important question right now,” Ross said, and Loki wanted to snap his smug neck. “It was a fairly easy ID to make, considering that’s two of the most notorious criminals on the planet that you’re getting friendly with. Walking around loose in Naples. Are they locked down in some super-basement somewhere? I damn well hope so.”

Loki looked at Stark, who was unusually quiet.

“In case it’s not clear,” Ross said, his voice the only sound in the room, “the Avengers sign the Accords, or they disband. You hand over any wanted criminals in your custody-”

“To who,” Sam said, his voice a little more aggressive than Loki would think was wise. “You?”

“For holding pending trial, yes,” Ross said. Loki felt himself twitch and tried to stifle it, though he could feel his breathing coming quickly. “No one wants a panic - and we all know that’s what would happen if this footage got out.”

Stark did stir at that. “Are you blackmailing us, Mr. Secretary?”

“Just an honest assessment, Mr. Stark. If you do not comply, we’ll be forced to take public action. After all, it’s hardly as though we can let you continue to harbor fugitives.”

“That sounds like blackmail to me,” Pietro muttered. “ _Do what I say or else._ Isn’t that what blackmail is?”

“One of those 30-megaton warheads you mentioned happens to be a little fond of one of those fugitives,” Stark said. “You planning on just ignoring that Thor-shaped problem, or…?”

“Thor, if he returns, will have to sign the Accords as well,” Ross said. “While he’s on Earth, he has to follow Earth laws. That includes Earth’s justice system. I expect you’ll be able to explain that to him.”

“No, I think we’ll leave that one to you,” Sam said. Loki felt his mouth twitch, but this time Ross ignored Sam completely.

“I’ll give you some time to discuss this,” he said. “The signing is in three days. I hope I will see all of you there.”

Loki clenched his fist, sorely tempted to summon one of his daggers and simply stab it through the man’s eye. Or just burn out his brain with magic, but that would be less viscerally satisfying. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, though. Only delay the inevitable. His heart fluttered in his stomach and he felt his phone buzz. _James,_ he thought. _Needs to know._

 _What’s happening,_ he read, in his missed texts.

_> >Loki?_  
_> >what’s going on??_  
_> >answer your phone asshole_

_They have video footage of Naples,_ he wrote. _Ross is threatening to release it publicly unless the Avengers turn us over and sign the Accords._

Nothing.

“Loki?” Steve said, tentatively, after Ross had left the room. Like he wasn’t sure Loki was still there. He let the concealment spell go and otherwise didn’t move.

“Well,” he said flatly. “It seems you have a predicament.”

“That’s not a predicament, that was an ultimatum,” Sam said, scowling at the door. “And you,” he added, “Tony, you had this since this morning and didn’t _say_ anything?”

Stark shook his head. “What could I have said that would’ve made any difference?”

“Why send it to you?” Pietro asked, undisguised wariness in his voice. Loki glanced at him, surprised. Perhaps his animosity toward Stark was stronger than his animosity toward Loki. Or perhaps he was simply concerned for the implications for Wanda; that was more likely.

“Don’t give me that,” Stark said, sounding disgusted. “I have no idea. And I don’t see how there’s even a conversation to be had here. This is already a done deal.”

“That’s it?” Sam said. “You just cave? What about that time when the military wanted your suit and you just handed it on over, yeah, sure – oh, wait.”

“I don’t have to like it to know it’s necessary,” Stark snapped.

Loki checked his phone again. Still no word from Barnes.

“What was that footage from?” Wanda asked. The first time she’d spoken, Loki thought.

“The time when everyone thought Steve was dead and him and Barnes went off the rails,” Rhodes said, gesturing at Loki. He resisted the urge to bare his teeth. This reminded him too much of when Sif had been here and he could feel the trap closing. But this time sacrificing himself couldn’t stop it, and it wasn’t just about _him._

“I didn’t hear anyone complaining about the sudden deactivation of over three-quarters of HYDRA’s operations then,” Sam said caustically. Loki felt a surge of gratitude and glanced at Steve, who was flipping through the document Ross had left behind.

“This isn’t about Loki or Barnes,” Rhodes objected. “This is about responsibility, and putting a check on ourselves-”

“Surely you cannot actually be considering agreeing to these Accords,” Loki said. “This is – an absurd smokescreen. Things would have gone badly in Latveria whether or not we were there. It would likely have been _worse._ ”

“Sorry, did I miss where we asked for your opinion?” Stark said, and Loki bit back the urge to snap at him, though narrowly. Wanda was staring at her lap like she might find answers there, her brother glowering at anyone who glanced in her direction.

“He’s part of this too,” Sam said, and Loki felt another surge of gratitude. “Remember the part where Ross basically demanded we hand him and Bucky over? How do you think that’s going to end, huh?” Oddly, that seemed directed at Rhodes more than Stark, but his arms stayed crossed, expression stony.

“And if we wait?” Romanov’s voice was quiet, but Loki got the impression she’d been considering her words for a while. “Or refuse? This isn’t a choice, you guys. Ross is just giving us a chance to give in gracefully.” She shook her head. “We don’t play ball and they’ll strong-arm us into it.” She glanced at Loki very briefly. “I doubt any of us get out of that unscathed.”

“And you think caving to Ross is getting us out unscathed?” Sam challenged. Romanov’s lips twisted.

“Again, Sam,” Rhodes said. “It’s the _United Nations-_ ”

“And whose interests does the UN usually follow? Huh?” Sam exhaled loudly. “This is all such bullshit.”

“Again,” Loki said, “the fact that this is a _question…_ no one else on your planet has any idea how to deal with the threats you are facing, and you want to place yourselves under their control? Even if I were _not_ personally invested - which I obviously am - it seems to me it would be _very_ foolish to place your ability to act as you must under the auspices of anyone else. But most particularly under the auspices of those who do not understand the battles you fight. I am given to understand that in New York-”

“During your attack,” Stark said. Loki twitched a shoulder in acknowledgment.

“Was your government’s solution not to destroy the city and everyone in it? Or in your capital, were there not found to be tentacles of Hydra wormed into the highest levels of authority? Or in Sokovia - would they have had you wait for authorization? Whose?” He sat back. “Accountability is one thing, although a very slippery one. Control is another.”

“What would you know about accountability,” Stark said, and if their mutual dislike had been largely cordial before, plainly that was no longer the case. Loki tensed, lip curling.

“What would you,” he said, “when if we are to speak of Sokovia, it was your meddling that birthed the architect of that particular disaster, and I do not see that _you_ have faced any consequences for that action.” He saw Wanda huddle into herself out of the corner of his eye as Stark recoiled, and felt a brief little twinge of guilt.

“Loki,” Steve said, stirring from where he’d been sitting, frowning.

“Personally, political advice from an alien whose only experience with government is something between a monarchy and a dictatorship isn’t going to hold much water with me,” Rhodes said. “Just saying.”

“If we agree then we have more room to negotiate,” Romanov said. It seemed mostly directed at Steve. “About Loki and Bucky. Make some kind of deal. Arrange some kind of amnesty, maybe-”

“You’re not stupid, Natasha,” Sam said. “There’s no way they’re going to agree to that. Bucky, _maybe._ But Loki?” Loki twitched, trying not to let his shoulders draw up. “I’d bet we have a hard time arguing _prison._ And what about Wanda?”

“No one is going to do anything to Wanda,” Pietro growled.

Stark twitched. “You don’t think she’s in more danger from the lynch mob that’s going to form if we just pretend like everything’s fine and we’re doing just dandy on our own?”

Loki glanced at his phone to keep himself from snapping that he would not accept a cage. Still no response from James, and worry was beginning to chew at him. What if this was all a diversion, and the trap had already closed?

“I don’t know why any of you are acting like this is a choice,” Rhodes said. “This isn’t something you can just say _nah, no thanks_ to, and it’s not a philosophical debate. Honestly I’m surprised it took this long-”

“For someone to try to gain control of the Avengers?” Loki broke in. “Is that not the other thing missing here? Not _what will you lose_ but _what do they gain?_ A team of some of the strongest people on your realm at their beck and call seems like no small prize.”

“Oh, yeah,” Stark drawled. “I bet the entire United Nations is just riddled with HYDRA. Oh, and maybe AIM too.”

“People do not have to belong to a nefarious organization to be corruptible,” Loki said flatly. “I would think _you_ would know that.”

Stark’s face went white with thoroughly satisfying rage. “What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?”

Loki smiled thinly. “It means perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that you created Ultron. Uncontrollable weaponry is rather your specialty, isn’t it?”

Rhodes tensed. “Oh, _hey_ now,” he said, tone darkening, and Loki felt the urge to smile, all teeth, but his focus was broken by the loud scrape of a chair on the floor and Steve standing.

“I have to go,” he said, and strode out of the room.

“Hold on,” Stark said, sounding thoroughly displeased. Loki’s heart lurched and he looked at Sam, who shook his head. He’d missed something. There had been something in Steve’s voice, some sound that made him afraid. He turned for the door. “What, now _you’re_ just going to walk out? We’re not done talking-”

“I have heard all of the idiocy I can stomach,” Loki snapped. “Any more and I might vomit.” He shut the door firmly behind him, looking back and forth and heading toward the stairs more on instinct than any real knowledge. Looking down, he could see Steve at the base of the landing, his head bowed forward.

“Steve?” He said quietly, descending slowly to meet him. He saw Steve’s shoulders shake, very slightly.

“I just got word,” Steve said. His voice was dull, and Loki couldn’t see enough of his face to read, but he still had an awful sinking feeling. “It’s Peggy. She’s…she went in her sleep.”

“Oh,” Loki said. Steve looked up, his eyes red-rimmed, and Loki swallowed hard. “Steve…I am so sorry.” He had seen her, just a few months ago. Spoken to her. And he’d known then that she was old, and weakened, but so _quickly…_

“At least it was peaceful,” Steve said. His voice broke. “She wasn’t suffering.”

“Steve,” Loki said again, and gave up on trying to find the right words. Steve had loved her. Did love, maybe, and there was still a bitter envy that lurked in Loki’s heart for that, but that did not mean he took any satisfaction in this. He opened his arms and Steve lurched into him, his embrace squeezing Loki almost too tightly, his face turned into Loki’s hair, breathing in uneven gasps.

“The funeral’s in three days in London,” Steve said. “I need to, I need to be there…”

“Hush,” Loki said. “We can…you do not need to do that right now. You can give yourself a moment just to hurt. To grieve.”

Steve made a muffled noise, a strangled kind of sob. “I miss her,” he said. “I knew it was coming, but – god, I miss her.”

“I know,” Loki said softly, lifting one hand to cradle the back of Steve’s head. “She deserves that.”

Steve slumped against him like he’d been waiting for that permission. He didn’t sound like he was crying; Loki almost wished that he would.

“I don’t know what to do, Loki,” he said heavily. “I can’t let them take you and Bucky away. And even if it weren’t for that…the Avengers work because we’re free agents. If that changes…”

“You do not have to sign anything now,” Loki said soothingly, but his stomach was a lump of lead within him.

“Bucky,” Steve said after a moment of silence. “I need to tell him. What’s going on, and…and about Peggy.”

Loki thought about the lack of response on his phone. “He may already know some of it,” he said. “I was…keeping him updated on the events of the meeting.”

“Then…just about Peggy, I guess.” Steve pushed himself away from Loki and Loki let him go, if a little reluctantly. Steve rubbed at his eyes, looking as though he’d endured a week of pain in the last hour. Loki’s heart ached for him.

“May I come with you?” Loki asked, before Steve could tell him to leave, but Steve looked almost relieved.

“Sure. Yes. I…thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Loki said gently. He reached out, threading his fingers through Steve’s. Steve leaned into him, shoulder bumping Loki’s briefly; he doubted Steve was even aware of it. And he could not even have time to grieve properly, not when these Accords threatened to pull everything apart.

* * *

Barnes’ rooms were empty.

Steve stared in nearly stupefied confusion, his eyebrows knitted together; the stone in Loki’s stomach only grew heavier.

“He’s gone, isn’t he,” Steve said dully. Loki picked up James’ phone, lying on the counter. His last messages were still on the screen; Loki wondered if James had read them before or after he’d run. He handed it to Steve, who stared at it, his face blank.

“He might not have gone far,” Loki said, but it sounded weak even to him. “Perhaps just for a run, on the grounds-”

“There’s a hole in the closet wall,” Steve said. “Where there’d be a surveillance camera blind spot. Looks like he was keeping something in there. Gear to run with, I guess.” Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “And now he’s taken off – where’s he going to _go?_ Goddammit – doesn’t he trust me to keep him _safe?_ ”

A part of Loki thought _maybe he was smart. Run now, before it gets too dangerous to run, before they’ve closed in too close to get out._ “Maybe that is why he felt he needed to go,” Loki said. “To keep you safe-”

“That’s a bullshit idea of protection!” Steve interrupted, turning on Loki, his expression cracking, and Loki almost flinched back. “And you, what were you thinking?”

“What?” Loki said, blinking. Steve gestured at the phone.

“Sending those messages? Were you _trying_ to scare him? You _know_ he’s jumpy, even more so since the attack on the Tower, didn’t you figure-”

“I thought he deserved to know what was going on while others argued over his fate,” Loki said, his voice sharpening slightly. “If it were me that is what I would want. Not knowing is the worst kind of fear.”

“And you didn’t think he might react _badly_ to the government demanding we hand him over? And now he’s out there, on his own-”

“I didn’t think he would _run!_ ” Loki said, his voice rising. Steve blinked at him, seeming startled, and then slumped.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away. “I’m – god. I can’t. I can’t _do_ this. Peggy’s gone, now Bucky’s gone, the Accords, everything’s falling apart. And I know…” Steve’s eyes squeezed closed. “Thank you. For not running too.”

Loki blinked. “What?”

Steve swallowed. “I know you could’ve, and I would’ve understood if it seemed like the best option, but…I’m glad you didn’t. That you’re here.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I need to – I can’t just leave Buck running around loose. What if they find him? What if they were watching the compound in case something like this happened?”

Loki shook his head. “James is clever. And trained to hide.”

Steve closed his eyes. “The funeral…god. And I need to call Sharon…”

Loki took only a split second to make the decision. “Go,” he said. “You should be there. I will look for James.” Steve hesitated, and Loki reached out to touch his face. “You need to be there, Steve. To say goodbye. Let me help you with the rest.”

Steve blinked a few times, rapidly, and then reached out and pulled Loki into a hug that was almost too tight, his face pressed into Loki’s shoulder. “I love you,” he said, voice muffled. “I…I’m sorry.”

Loki closed his eyes and put his arms around Steve again, feeling heartsick. “There is nothing you need apologize for,” he murmured. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Steve pulled back, his expression suddenly serious. “Loki,” he said, “I won’t let them take you away. You believe that, right? I won’t let that happen. Whatever happens with the Accords…I’m going to protect you.”

Loki found a weak smile. “My fiery defender,” he said, trying to tease, but Steve didn’t smile.

“I mean it,” he said. “Even if it means giving up the Avengers. I’m not going to lose you.”

Loki felt a frisson of fear down his spine. “Let us hope it does not come to that,” he said.

“But if it does,” Steve said, his gaze intent. “I want you to know.” His hands rose, cupping Loki’s face, and drew him into a kiss that felt like grief and desperation. “I love you,” Steve said again, when he broke away. Loki rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“And I you,” he said quietly. “Take Sam with you. Don’t try to go alone.”

“I need to book the flight,” Steve said. He cast another look around Bucky’s room. “The others…can we not tell them? Yet. That Bucky’s gone. They’ll just…I don’t need anyone thinking that he’s…it could get bad.”

 _Stark would undoubtedly make it so,_ Loki thought, perhaps uncharitably. But he nodded, slowly. “They will not hear it from me.”

“Thank you,” Steve said again. Loki watched him go, and only when he was certain he was gone did he let himself sink onto the couch, dropping his head into his hands. Whatever Steve said, he did not see a way out of this that was not disastrous. Even if _he_ submitted – James would not want to do so, and Loki would not ask him to.

 _Norns, can we not have a_ moment _of peace,_ he thought bitterly, but he should know better than that. He was not certain who the Norns favored least, him, James, or Steve, but it seemed they did not favor any of them very much.

* * *

Loki stayed behind after Steve had gone, picking up James’s phone again. Most of it had been wiped clean, but there was one number remaining. Loki glanced at it, memorized it, then deleted that as well. It wasn’t a message for Steve, Loki realized, setting the phone back down. It was for him, written in a way only he could understand. James might simply intend for him to interpret it, or else he might not. Perhaps this was a kind of invitation.

Loki slipped out around midnight and teleported himself out of the city. Not coordinates, though he suspected that was how anyone else would take it. A simple cipher layered with an established system of code words he and James had worked out during that long and awful period of time they’d spent stalking HYDRA. They’d had plenty of idle hours and need for something to occupy them.

 _Paramus, NJ,_ the message read _._ From there, he knew where to go.

Loki knocked lightly at the door. It opened a moment later just a sliver, one of James’s eyes and a gun just visible. “You alone?” He asked, scanning past Loki, and he tried not to feel offended.

“Yes,” he said simply, keeping an eye on the gun. Depending on how twitchy James was...though he was fairly sure he wouldn’t be that sloppy.

James looked a moment longer, then Loki heard the sound of a latch sliding and James opened the door. Loki stepped through and James closed it, pacing over to the windows. Everything about his bearing screamed _hunted._ “Did you think I was going to bring someone?”

“I thought maybe Steve.” James’s voice was a little too flat. Loki regarded his back, eyes narrowing.

“And would you have closed the door on him?”

“Maybe. Yes.” One of James’s shoulders twitched. “He should keep his distance right now.”

“He’s gone,” Loki said after a moment. “To London, for Margaret Carter’s funeral.” He saw Bucky twitch again, his head twisting around.

“She - oh.” James jerked his head to the side. “That’s - shit. Peggy.” He walked to the bed and dropped heavily onto it. “Steve...is he okay?”

“No,” Loki said with brutal honesty. “He is not. I told him to go and that I would find you.”

“Peggy,” James said again, and closed his eyes for a moment. Loki saw him take whatever he was feeling and box it away, close it off to deal with later, and then look back at Loki. “I can’t go back. You know as well as I do the direction the wind is blowing and I’m not gonna-” He broke off, eyes a little wild.

“They won’t kill you,” Loki said after a moment. “Most likely.”

“ _Most likely._ ” James barked a laugh. “Nah, maybe not. Just put me in a locked room in solitary for the rest of my life. Or else. You think the government’s above trying to figure out how to make their very own Winter Soldier? Cause I don’t.”

Loki had considered that. “Steve,” he started to say.

“Steve can’t fight the entire damn US Government,” James interrupted. “No matter how much he thinks he can. Come on, Loki. You know how this goes as well as I do.”

Loki took a deep breath and let it out. “I do,” he said, finally. What he had not wanted to say to Steve.

“They’re going to come for you, too,” James said. Loki inclined his head a fraction. “They’re going to - they’ll kill you. For sure.”

“I am aware,” Loki said quietly.

“So?” James’s voice almost vibrated. “What are you going to do? Do you have some kind of plan?”

 _Some kind of plan._ Loki wished he did, but no matter how he twisted the situation he could not see a good way out short of running, and if he ran - where to? There would be no safe corner on Midgard, and the other Realms...he was an exile from Asgard. Freya might welcome him in Vanaheim, but…

This was his home. And that would mean abandoning Steve. Probably for good.

“No,” he said after a moment. “I do not.”

James pressed his lips together. “You could come with me.”

“No,” Loki said immediately. James frowned at him.

“If this is some kind of self-sacrifice bullshit-”

“It isn’t. It is pragmatic.” Loki looked at one of the walls. “Stark has the means of tracing my magic.”

James’ jaw tightened. “We managed to keep ahead of the Avengers before.”

“But they did find us eventually,” Loki pointed out. “And I have no doubt their methods will have been refined. And now there is the android as well. I do not know the extent of his abilities.”

“One of your other planets, then. Or that place in-between-”

Loki shook his head. “The other Realms - most will not welcome me. Or you. And in many ways are more dangerous. And that space is not meant for long-term habitation. It would be a temporary measure, it is true, that might defer capture. But eventually…”

“Loki.” James’s voice was strained, and he made a frustrated noise. “So what are you going to _do_?”

Loki smiled, crookedly. “I am hoping to figure that out as I go along.” James just stared at him, and Loki sighed. “I don’t know. That depends. On what Steve does, on what happens with the signing of these Accords.”

“And when they come for you? Are you just gonna go meekly to your execution?”

“No,” Loki said. His lips twisted. “If it comes to that, at the very least I will make them pay for it.”

“Don’t let it fucking come to that.” James’s voice was almost a snarl. “Maybe I should come back. Fight this.” His whole body tensed even as he said it. Loki caught the flick of his eyes toward the windows like an animal at bay looking for a way out.

“No,” Loki said. “There is no use. You should stay low, keep your head down. I will feel out the situation as it moves forward. We should still have...some time, before anyone moves. They _want_ agreement from the Avengers, however forced.” James jerked his head up and down in a nod, but he did not seem reassured.

“Am I making a bad call?” He asked, after a long pause.

“Based on what criteria?” Loki asked. James gave him a _look_ and Loki added, “I am not being obtuse. Do you mean, is it the best option to keep yourself safe?”

“No,” James said after a moment. “I guess more...is it the right thing to do.” His lips spasmed. “I know I. Did things. Maybe I _deserve-_ ”

“Who is to say what anyone deserves,” Loki said, his voice rough. “If you have _done things,_ how much more so I? And yet here we both are and the world turns on.” He felt his lips twist. “Giving yourself up as their scapegoat accomplishes nothing.”

“Bit of a self-serving answer, isn’t that,” James said.

“For me or for you?” Loki’s scoffed quietly. “Either way. You are a fool if you think Steve would allow it. If you think _I_ would allow it.”

One corner of James’s mouth twitched upward very slightly. “Yeah.” He exhaled through his nose. “How are you...going to reach me, if you need to? Is there some kind of magic, uh…”

Loki considered the idea of proposing a tracking spell like the one he had on Steve, but he recalled that it had made Steve uneasy at first, and with James as uneasy as he was Loki did not want to risk making things worse. “I can create a sort of...temporary link,” Loki offered. “It would allow you to reach out to me in need, through thought. I would not be - in your thoughts,” Loki hastened to add. “Simply a sort of...psychic telephone line, as it were.” James looked at him for a moment, and then jerked his head in a nod.

“Fine,” he said. Loki did not fail to notice the show of trust it was for him to agree. To give anyone any kind of access to his mind after what had been done to him, and more: to offer a link that he must know held a possibility of exploitation when he was running from almost everyone he knew. But he’d left a trail for Loki.

“Why me?” He asked, after a moment. “Why not leave your message for - if not Steve, then Sam, perhaps.”

James shook his head. “It’s not obvious?” Loki raised his eyebrows, and James smiled crookedly. “You’re the other one who is getting screwed here. I wasn’t sure what you were going to do. Wanted to make sure you knew you wouldn’t have to go rogue on your own if you didn’t want.”

Loki’s chest tightened. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, and wove the working, spinning a link between carefully fine and deliberately sensitive. James blinked.

“Should I feel something?” He asked.

“No,” Loki said. “I would be concerned if you did.”

“Huh.” James rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “Right. So…” He trailed off, staring at one corner of the room. “Take care of yourself. And tell Steve…” He trailed off again. Loki knew that feeling. Trying to figure out how to say a thousand things in a few words. He waited. “Tell him whatever you want,” he said finally, too casually. “And that I’m sorry. About Peggy.”

“I will pass that on.”

“If you get yourself stuck in government holding I’m gonna be pissed,” James said.

“I will do my best to avoid it,” Loki said, not speaking the morbid thought that he would probably never get that far. “I should go. The longer I linger here, the more likely someone notices my absence.”

“Go,” James said, fidgeting slightly from one foot to another. Loki looked at him, then strode over and offered his arm to clasp. James stared at him, snorted, and stood, giving him a quick but tight embrace.

“This is not goodbye,” Loki said, though his throat closed like it knew he might be lying.

“Too bad we can’t just kill a few HYDRA agents and make this problem go away, huh?” James said, wry and ever so faintly bitter. Loki laughed with the same sound.

“Who knows,” he said, too lightly. “Perhaps Secretary Ross will find himself without a heart someday in the near future.”

“I wouldn’t cry.” James took a step back. “Go. I bet...Steve needs you.”

 _You should be there as well,_ Loki thought. _You would deserve it more than me._ But he just nodded, and took his own step back. “Be well, James.”

“You too,” James said. Loki twisted himself back through space and turned his phone back on. One missed call from Sam, and one from, of all things, Romanov. She’d left a message. Loki stared at it for a long moment before playing it.

“ _Wonder where you took off to with your phone turned off. If I were you I wouldn’t go hopping around without telling anyone where you’re going. People might get jumpy.”_ Stark, Loki thought. “ _We should talk,_ ” she went on. “ _Before things get messy._ ” A brief pause. “ _See you in London, I’m guessing._ ”

 _Before things get messy,_ Loki thought. As though they were not already. What did Romanov think there was to discuss?

Loki had seen enough battlefields to know when one was forming in front of him, and he was fairly certain the lines were already drawn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to add here, except that ahhh thank you to everyone who has commented so far for your very kind words! Don't I just live for praise and validation. 
> 
> Chapter two: in which the plot thickens and shit gets (even more) real.

London was suitably overcast and dismal when Loki arrived. Loki met Steve and Sam at the hotel, the pair of them already attired for the funeral.

“Buck?” Steve asked, almost immediately.

“Safe,” Loki said. “Keeping his head down, for now, and keeping his distance.” He carefully did not say _from you,_ but by the way Steve’s mouth twitched, he might have heard it anyway. Still, he nodded.

“Probably for the best,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Are you…were you going to…come? To the funeral?”

“Do you want me to?” Loki asked. It was something he had wondered about, fearing that he might be…unwelcome. Carter belonged to a part of Steve’s life that he did not know, and sometimes felt he had no place in.

“Yes,” Steve said, and the lack of hesitation was a small and selfish balm. “If it’s possible…not too dangerous. For you, I mean.”

“It is easy enough for me to go unnoticed,” Loki said. Steve nodded. He looked drained, Loki noticed, and wished he could just pull Steve into bed for a day of rest.  

“Come on,” Sam said, giving Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. “We should go.”

Steve rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I wish Bucky could be here,” he said. “I wish _you_ could just go as yourself-“

“Steve,” Loki said quietly, though he was not entirely certain what to follow it with. _I am sorry_ sounded so pathetically _weak,_ and _it will be well_ was patently a lie. Steve pulled his hands down and jerked his chin in a nod..

“I know,” he said, even though Loki didn’t. “You’re right, Sam. Let’s go.”

Loki sat with Sam in the pews. “Steve’s a pallbearer,” Sam told him. “He’ll be here once they bring her in.”

“Did you know her?” Loki asked. He’d set a glamor on himself the moment they’d walked in, suggesting that he remain unnoticed. He could adopt a disguise, but there would be too many questions. A cold part of Loki’s brain noted that it was a good thing the grief-stricken were not terribly observant.

“Agent Carter? No, I didn’t. Wish I had.”

Loki looked down at his hands. “I do not know what to do. I have – very little experience with death. Or at least, of mourning.”

“You want to know what you can do for Steve?” Loki dipped his chin a fraction, and Sam sighed. “You just…be there. Listen. I think you know better than you think you do.” Sam took a deep breath and let it out. “I just wish this bullshit with Ross wasn’t happening now, of all times.”

Loki glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye. “What are you going to do?”

“You mean, am I going to sign? _Ha._ No. Even if it _wouldn’t_ mean selling you and Bucky down the river, I wouldn’t do it.”

“Then what _will_ you do?” Loki asked. Sam smirked crookedly.

“Wing it,” he said.

The music began and Loki swallowed back his response, sitting back but keeping his hands clenched tightly together. Steve’s eyes were red rimmed when he came and sat down – Loki moved over so he could take the place between him and Sam, wishing he could do more than put his hand on the back of Steve’s neck, thumb rubbing gently up and down.

Steve, to his surprise, did not stand to speak. He closed his eyes when the woman Loki recognized as Sharon Carter stood up, bowing his head a little forward; Loki felt a prickle on the back of his neck and glanced over his shoulder to see Romanov standing near the doors. He wondered if she could see him.

Steve lingered as the rest of the gathering filed out, sitting still and staring at what seemed to be nothing. Loki looked at Sam nervously, but Sam shook his head, apparently unsurprised. Romanov lingered as well, and when Steve heaved a sigh and stood, turning; he didn’t seem surprised to see her.

“I thought you were going to be in Geneva,” he said.

“I am,” Romanov said. “My flight leaves in an hour. But I wanted to come here first.” She pulled Steve into a hug and stepped back, glancing at Sam – but not, to Loki’s relief, at Loki. Though that could just be because she was pretending not to be aware of him.

“I’ll meet you back at the hotel,” Sam said. Loki looked at him sharply, but Sam made a slight gesture and Loki decided not to argue.

“Not the hotel,” Steve said. “There’s a bar next door. I told Sharon we could meet there.”

“Sure,” Sam said after a beat. “There, then.”

As Loki followed Sam away somewhat reluctantly, he just heard Romanov say, “there’s room on the plane if you want to come.”

“No,” Steve said quietly. “I’m sorry, Nat. I can’t.”

It was selfish of him to be relieved, and Loki knew it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t.

“Why did you want us to leave?” Loki asked Sam once they were outside.

“I didn’t. But Natasha wanted to talk to Steve alone. She’s going to try to persuade him to go with her. Sign on.”

“He won’t,” Loki said. Sam snorted.

“Damn right he won’t. You heard Sharon in there, right? _Plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and say, “no, you move.”_ ” Sam’s lips twisted up at the corner. “I don’t know if she was _trying_ to speak straight to him, but he heard it that way.”

“You and Steve,” Loki said. “As well as, I’d guess, the witch and her brother, on one side. Stark, Rhodes, and I would wager the Vision on the other. I wonder where Barton will fall.”

“He’ll be on Cap and Wanda’s side,” Sam said.

“Even if that means he is also protecting me?” Loki shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Regardless…I do not like the look of things. You are setting yourself in opposition to, in my understanding, a fair amount of power. If they cannot convince you to act as they wish, they will force you.”

“They’ll probably try,” Sam agreed. “But if we’re assessing next moves – I want to know what _you’re_ going to do. Bucky’s in the wind. Are you going to do the same thing?”

“There’s no point.” One of Sam’s eyebrows twitched up and Loki shook his head. “It’s not fatalism. Just a tactical assessment.”

“It can be both,” Sam said.

“Stark can track my magic, at least to some degree,” Loki said. “Outside of this realm I have few options and fewer friends. And…” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I cannot abandon Steve.”

“So what _are_ you going to do?” Sam asked.

“Isn’t that just the question,” Loki said, and tried to ignore the worried look Sam gave him.

* * *

“I expect I am not joining you and Steve to speak with Carter?” Loki said. Sam poked his head out of the bathroom and gave him an odd look.

“Why not?” Loki just looked at him, and Sam made a face. “Yeah, all right. But I think you should. Unless there’s something else you needed to do.” Loki frowned at him, and Sam added, “like getting in touch with Bucky.”

“Ah.” Loki exhaled. “No. It’s safer if I keep my distance, for now.”

“Then come. Get a drink. We can all take a deep breath before the explosions start.”

Loki followed Sam down to the hotel bar and found Steve already there with Carter, the two of them talking in low voices. He wanted dearly to ask Steve what Romanov had said to him, but he had no idea what Carter’s position was in this mess and so held his tongue. It could wait until later.

“Sam,” Steve said, looking up. His eyes flicked briefly sideways to Loki and though he did not acknowledge him verbally, Loki caught the expression of gratitude. “Sharon – this is Sam Wilson. Sam – Sharon.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Carter said. “Falcon, right?”

“That’s what they call me.” Sam offered a hand and Carter took it. Loki sat down at the bar. He signaled the bartender for a glass of wine, trying not to feel the sting of isolation. It was necessary, after all, that he remain unnoticed. Too many difficult explanations otherwise. “I’m sorry about your aunt,” Sam went on. “Everything I hear about her makes me really wish I’d gotten to meet her.”

Carter smiled crookedly. “She was exceptional.”

Steve, Loki noticed, was looking up at the television in the corner. Loki looked with him and read the text at the bottom of the screen: _United Nations gathers for signing of Sokovia Accords._ Loki wondered what Steve was thinking.

Carter noticed the direction of his gaze as well. “I noticed that you’re not there,” she said. It didn’t sound accusatory, but Steve still tensed.

“I don’t think it’s a good thing.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m…skeptical. About the motivations behind it, and who ends up being the ones to…take control. What this “oversight” would look like, and who has final say. We’re not – the Avengers were never supposed to be a political tool. And that’s what we’d be.”

Carter’s gaze was shrewd. “So what are you going to do?”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “Whatever needs doing.”

“Sounds ominous,” Sam said. Loki huffed a quiet laugh into his glass of wine.

“Who’s this?” Carter asked, looking directly at him. Loki blinked, a little surprised. It took uncommonly keen observation to ignore a magical suggestion, even one as subtle as he’d crafted his. Loki half summoned the magic to strengthen it, to encourage her to forget her interest, but Steve glanced at him and Loki read his expression, shifting instead to a different sort of glamour: softening his features, darkening his eyes, a few other subtle changes.

“This is – a friend of mine,” Steve said, unbearably awkward, but at least on him that did not stick out so much.

“Theodore Skarsgard,” Loki said, before Steve could try to invent a name for him. “An honor, Ms. Carter. And I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” she said, and though her eyes lingered on him for a moment they moved away before too long. “Well, Steve-”

“Oh, shit,” Sam said softly. Loki looked at him and he pointed at the TV, where the camera showed a building, a hole blasted in its side. Loki didn’t need to read the explanation at the bottom. After all, he’d seen it, intact, only moments before.

“Natasha,” Steve said, scrambling for his phone.

“This is going to be bad,” Sam said.

“Does it say who caused it?”

“Not yet.”

Carter stood up, looking at her phone. “Time for me to go to work,” she said, her voice nearly affectless. She glanced at Steve and Sam, and added, “be careful.” Steve smiled tightly but didn’t reply, his phone to his ear. Loki kept his eyes on the screen, reading the subtitles that scrolled across the bottom. _IED detonated outside the building...at least five casualties…no organization has yet claimed responsibility…_

“Natasha?” Steve said, his voice bleeding relief. “You’re alive? Great. I’ll be there-” He broke off, but Loki could not quite make out what Romanov was saying on the other end of the line. He looked toward Sam, whose expression had frozen.

“What is it,” he asked sharply.

“Steve,” Sam said, low and tense. “Look.”

Loki looked. There on the screen in blurry resolution: recognizably James, looking over his shoulder, his shoulders hunched. The subtitles read _surveillance footage captures possible culprit of attacks._

“Turn the sound on,” Steve said the bartender, his voice rough. The bartender glanced at him and then obeyed.

“—have identified the man in this photograph as a suspect in the bombing of the U.N. Assembly. He is to be considered armed and dangerous. The death toll for the incident has risen to seven, including Ambassador T’Chaka Udaku, who has only recently abdicated in favor of his son King T’Challa of Wakanda.” The footage switched to a photograph of what Loki presumed was the dead man, and then to a reporter with an explanation of Wakanda’s peculiar role in the international community.

Loki turned to Steve, who had hung up his phone, jaw clenched. “Loki,” he said. “Can you get us to Geneva?”

“Yes,” Loki said simply.

“Both of us?” Sam said, a little sharply. Loki didn’t glance at Steve before nodding.

“I assumed that was what was meant.”

“Then let’s go,” Steve said. Loki reached out and took his arm.

“It’s not James,” he said. The way Steve looked at him there was just _briefly_ a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but it was still there.

“I know,” he said, as though neither of them was aware of its presence. “But that just makes it even more important that we figure out what’s going on.”

* * *

Loki left Steve and Sam both outside the United Nations building and cloaked himself from sight, pacing over to examine the destruction – but he could read nothing in it save that it was not magical in nature, which at least ruled out new mischief of Amora’s. He could only hope that she’d scuttled off to lick her wounds elsewhere, at least for a little while.

He wished there was a way of getting a message to James. Knowing he was out there, on his own, possibly unaware of the new target painted on his back – it made Loki itch. He wished James would reach out to him, use the spell - but based on his previous state of mind Loki doubted he would. Belatedly, he wished he had structured the working to let communication run both ways, so that he was not limited to waiting for James’s signal.

Loki turned away from the debris of the explosion and saw Romanov sitting with a stranger, though even as Loki studied him he stood and moved away. Loki shifted forward, tucking his hands into his pockets and strolling over to her. She was frowning after the man who had just departed, distracted.

“Lady Romanov,” he said silkily, ever so slightly satisfied by her start. She didn’t turn in a rush, though.

“If you know where Bucky is,” she said without preamble, “it would be a really good idea to tell me now.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “And why would you think I would know where he is? I thought he was back in upstate New York.”

“Liar,” Romanov said, though without much tone of accusation. “I suspected that he was gone, and that you knew. Now I’m sure. When you vanished after Ross’s little visit – you were meeting him, right?”

“You have quite the story constructed. I would hate to interrupt it.”

“Listen,” Romanov said. “I know things look bad right now, but this? Just made them a whole lot worse. Bucky’s in serious danger now, and the sooner we can bring him in-”

“And who is _we,_ Agent Romanov?” Loki asked coolly. “It seems to me there is a bit of a schism, and you are on a different side of it than I. Or James.”

Romanov met his eyes levelly, a stubborn set to her jaw. “I don’t want Bucky dead. Or you.”

Loki’s smile felt fixed. “I have some personal experience with the amount of latitude _not dead_ leaves for misery.”

“I’m just trying to keep _everyone_ alive. Right now, everyone on this planet is looking for Barnes. Most of them will happily shoot on sight. If we – if _the Avengers_ can bring him in, we can keep him safe _and_ stop the situation from deteriorating further-”

“From where I stand it has already deteriorated plenty,” Loki said. “Such intervention might save you. But I very much doubt it will save me, for instance. Or, ultimately, James.” He dropped the smile and leaned a fraction toward her. “Do you really think they will let him live? You aren’t an idealist, Romanov. He is too dangerous. Either they will put him down like a dog or they will crush his fledgling willpower and make him a tool of their design.”

“Loki,” Steve said, just behind him, and then, “Natasha. You’re not hurt?”

Loki didn’t turn to face Steve. “She has been attempting to convince me to drag James back. For his own good, naturally.”

“Nat,” Steve said lowly.

“Steve, it’s bad,” Romanov said. “Don’t argue, just listen, for one second. T’Chaka’s dead and T’Challa’s…I’ve never seen him like this. He’s going after Bucky. The CIA has been crawling all over this place, so they’re in it too, and Ross hasn’t brought out his video evidence yet but I wouldn’t plan on it staying hidden for long – and you can bet how that’s going to look when he does decide to drop that bomb.”

Steve’s eyes flicked toward Loki. He refused to let himself twitch. Oh, yes, he could imagine. “This wasn’t him, Nat. It doesn’t make sense. Bucky wouldn’t-”

“Are you sure?” Romanov interrupted. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but – we both know Bucky isn’t exactly – the most stable. And these Accords – Ross – threatened him specifically. So he moves to take out the threat, like he was trained-”

“Bucky isn’t that person anymore,” Steve said, something almost savage in his voice.

“Maybe,” Romanov said. “But then maybe someone is using him. Controlling him-”

“They can’t,” Loki said flatly. “I made that impossible. When we were working together – I could hardly have him around HYDRA agents who might be able to turn him against me.” Steve gave him a startled, sharp look, and Loki realized that he had never mentioned that. It had seemed…private, somehow. Not his to divulge.

Romanov gave him a hard look. “You know that?” she said. “You have a lot of experience scrubbing brainwashing, do you?”

Loki tensed, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “Something’s wrong here, Natasha.”

“Regardless of whether it is or isn’t him,” she said after a moment, “everyone else is proceeding like it was. And that means they’re going to kill him, Steve.”

“No,” Steve said, matter of fact. “We’re going to find him first. Me, and Loki, and Sam. The people he _trusts._ If you come after him, Nat, do you really think it’s going to do anything other than send him running for the hills? Or at you? And if-” He swallowed. “If someone is…using him. Then you’re more likely to get hurt than me or Loki trying to deal with him.”

“Steve,” Romanov said quietly. “We need to stop this. Now.”

“What ‘we’, Nat?” Steve said, something flat and unhappy in the echo of Loki’s earlier question.  “Loki, come on. Nat’s right about one thing. We have to move fast.”

“ _Steve,_ ” Romanov said, her voice sharper. “Listen to me. You’re not _legal_ anymore, remember? You didn’t sign. Officially, you have no status, no protection. You’re a vigilante, not an Avenger.”

Steve didn’t turn. “That doesn’t change what I have to do.”

Loki gave Romanov a long, hard look before he turned and followed, matching Steve’s long strides.

“We need to find him,” Steve said lowly. “Do you have any idea where he would go? Did he ever tell you about, about anywhere…”

“I can think of one or two possibilities,” Loki said slowly. “None of them certain.”

“Good talk?” Wilson asked, falling in on Steve’s other side. Steve shook his head, jaw shifting.

“Does Sharon have anything?”

“Not yet. Still looking.”

Steve jerked his head in a nod. “All right. Loki, what’ve you got? Let’s see if the three of us can’t figure this out before the others do.”

* * *

None of Loki’s leads, to his immense frustration, led anywhere. He was beginning to wish that he _had_ asked after James’s plans, even if at the time it had seemed better not to know. Steve kept checking the news and Loki knew without asking that he was watching for the headline: _Winter Soldier captured, Winter Soldier killed._

“Why hasn’t Ross released the video yet?” Steve asked abruptly. “Seems like it’d fit the story he’s trying to sell.”

“I’d guess there are two reasons,” Sam said. “One, he doesn’t actually want mass panic, and confirmation that Loki’s on earth would probably do that – sorry, Loki.”

“No need,” Loki said easily.

“Two – it’s a double-edged sword. Sure, it lets him implicate the Avengers and probably tie Loki into the bombing. But it also creates a whole bunch of other questions about coverups and who knew and where and when. A whole other mess of complications.” Sam twitched one shoulder. “My guess is he won’t use that unless he’s desperate.”

“I assume there is no point in attempting to destroy that piece of evidence,” Loki said.

“Almost certainly not. There’ll be copies and backups everywhere. Ross is smart enough for that.”

In the end, it was Carter’s lead that told them where to go: Bucharest, as it turned out. But given that it was Carter’s information – time was running short.

At least they had a shortcut.

Sam stumbled when they landed, looking for a moment like he might be sick. “That’s…something,” he said. “Not sure how I like it.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Loki said, already turning to take in their surroundings, “most people feel that way.” He shifted.

Sam huffed. “At least I’m not a wimp.”

“For our escape we’re going to have to do something else,” Loki said. “Taking more than two people at once risks someone…getting lost between.”

“We’ll figure that out when it’s time,” Steve said, his voice resolute. Both he and Sam were in their respective armor, a move Loki had not yet made.

Sam turned to Steve. “So how are we going to do this?”

“Knock on the door,” Steve said, giving Sam a sideways look. “What do you mean, how?”

Sam eyed Steve, and Loki could see him thinking through whether he should question the wisdom of such a choice. Perhaps having his own doubts about the possibilities Romanov had brought forward. But he did not argue. “Redwing can take air support.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. “That’d be…helpful.”

“Stay in touch.”

For his part, Loki was certain: James might be scared, might have a touch of paranoia beyond the reasonable, was certainly capable of savage violence. But he had seen James after Steve’s death, when both of them had been tested to their breaking point, and past it. He had seen the shape of James’s fracturing, and it was not like this.

James yanked open his door before Steve could knock even once. He looked from Loki to Sam to Steve, and then stepped back and jerked his head. “You’re inconspicuous,” he said, dry as bone.

“They are when I’m with them,” Loki said. Steve stepped jerkily forward and pulled James into a hug. Loki slipped past them into the apartment. There were windows in the kitchen and Loki looked through them, scanning for any sign of approach.

“Buck,” Steve said, sounding like he wanted to say more but could not find the words.

“I’m sorry,” James said after a moment. “I couldn’t-”

“I get it.” Steve let him go. “We can’t stay here. They’ve found you, we need to move. They think you-”

“Attacked the Accords. I saw.” Bucky’s jaw shifted and he planted his feet in a way Loki recognized. “I didn’t.”

“We believe you,” Sam said. Loki gave him a faintly surprised look that he saw was matched by James, though followed quickly by relief. “Don’t know what _did_ happen, but…I doubt anyone’s going to be asking a whole lot of questions. So better if we just duck out quick and quiet.”

“And go where?” James asked. “Have you thought that far ahead? Besides, a party of four is going to be easier to follow than one. I can handle this-”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Steve said. “You tried running on your own and look where it’s got you.”

The hair on the back of Loki’s neck prickled. He checked the windows again, paced into the other room and listened at the door. James noticed first.

“What is it,” he asked sharply. Steve and Sam turned to look at him as well.

“I’m not certain. Something.” Loki twitched his shoulders. “I don’t think we should stay here any longer.”

“I agree,” Sam said. “Loki, can you…”

“Hush,” Loki interrupted. It was something just on the edge of awareness. An…oddity he was not familiar with. Magic, perhaps, perhaps not, but neither like the witch’s nor his own.

“Something’s here,” he said, with sudden certainty, at the same time Sam said, “oh, _shit._ Military units pulling up to the building. Four – five of ‘em.”

“Which military?” Steve asked.

James swore, an almost animal look of panic crossing his face. “Does it matter? They’ll shoot me just the same. Get out of the way, Steve, I need to go-”

“ _We_ need to go,” Steve said.

“All of you,” Loki said sharply. “Meet me on the roof,” and wove himself up a floor to stand on the flat top of the building, searching for the source of that hum against his senses.

His only warning was the quietest of footsteps. He whirled, summoning a blade, and stopped. Loki might not know him on sight, but he’d heard enough from Steve to realize who he was likely looking at: sleek black armor, face hidden behind a mask that evoked the cat whose name he bore. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said lowly. “I warn you as a courtesy, from one royal to another.” Former royal. Perhaps it would still mean something.

There was a distinct metallic sound as claws unsheathed. “Neither should you.” His voice was slightly distorted through the mask, but still clear. “Get out of my way.”

“King T’Challa, correct?” Not even a twitch in reaction, but Loki was fairly certain all the same. “I suppose your intention is the same as the rest of these intruders?”

“No,” T’Challa said bluntly. “My intention is to kill Barnes myself.”

Loki tensed. He needed to be careful, here. No matter how much he might want to, he could not simply throw the King of Wakanda off the roof. Not only because Steve would be disappointed. “I am afraid that is not acceptable.”

“I did not ask your permission.” He could hear shouting downstairs. Gunfire, running feet. Loki flashed his teeth in something half smile, half threat.

“You really do not want to fight with me.”

“Not particularly,” T’Challa agreed. “But I will.”

He was fast. Not just “for a mortal” – faster than a mortal _should_ be. Loki summoned his magic and wove a binding, but it – slipped. Loki felt something push back against him, as though the Panther had some magic of his own, but Loki was _certain_ he did not-

He moved out of the way just in time, switching strategies. He conjured an illusion of himself, complete with knife, that feinted toward T’Challa as Loki circled around. He could not simply leave, not and abandon the others. He tried another working with T’Challa’s attention diverted, but there was that same odd resistance. He pushed through it, though, overpowering it this time. T’Challa reeled with sudden dizziness. Loki kicked his legs out from under him but somehow the man managed to roll gracefully back up to his feet as the door to the roof opened and James burst out.

T’Challa’s eyes moved to him and locked. Loki saw him tense and this time managed to move faster, grabbing his shoulder to yank him back before he could attack. Then Steve was out as well, pushing James out of the way.

“T’Challa,” he said, holding his hands up. “Listen to me. Don’t hurt him, all right? He didn’t do this-”

“I do not believe you,” he said. “Do not stand in my way, Steve Rogers. Our friendship will not help you.” T’Challa twisted, smooth and flexible; his claws caught Loki’s hand and cut deep. Loki made a sharp sound of surprise and let go reflexively. He could see it, the moment before it happened, but that did not give him the chance to stop it.

James was running for the roof edge and T’Challa sprung after him. Steve would follow, Loki knew in that flash of thought, and none of them would get far, not with the road he could see swarming with soldiers and surely more further out or on their way.

“Steve,” he said lowly, in the brief moment before his lover was gone.

“Get out of here!” Steve yelled, sprinting for the roof’s edge. “Go! Find-“

Loki did not hear who he was meant to find.

Even if he had, he would not have gone anyway.

* * *

He was right. They did not get far.

Loki caught up as what looked like some military or another, joined by Rhodes, were corralling the lot of them. James separated from the others, and Loki noted with a flicker of concern that he didn’t seem to be fighting. Sam’s eyes were fixed on the Wakandan King whose mask was removed and who spoke to no one else. Steve was scanning their surroundings and seemed to slump with relief: a moment later Loki realized that it must be because he hadn’t seen Loki and assumed he was safely away.

He could probably break them out, Loki thought. Might even be able to spirit them away in the confusion. But there would be deaths. It would be messy, and when shots were fired…Loki might not need to worry about that, but if a stray bullet struck Steve or James, or worse, Sam…

Better not. He could bide his time. Briefly, Loki considered telling Steve that he was here, but decided that he did not want to cause Steve further worry or endure his attempts to convince Loki to leave. He slipped into a car in the caravan that was not fully occupied, and settled back for the ride.

The cavalcade took them to a forbidding building and there Barnes went one way and the rest of them another. Loki slipped out after Steve, Sam, and T’Challa exited their vehicle, while his driver was conferring with another. Rhodes joined them, and Carter was waiting. Loki narrowed his eyes, suddenly wondering whose side she was truly on. T’Challa moved away from them both over to a tall, forbidding woman and began conferring with her in voices too quiet to hear.

“What were you thinking,” Loki heard Rhodes say to Steve.

“Shut up, Jim,” Sam said, sounding disgusted.

“We are going to have to confiscate your equipment,” a small man, obviously a bureaucrat of some kind, said with a thin smile. “Weapons, armor, so forth.”

“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked. The bureaucrat’s thin-lipped smile did not waver.

“James Barnes is being kept in a secure room until our psychiatrist can evaluate him.”

“That where we’re going, too?” Sam asked sardonically.

“No,” Carter said. “Some people are here to see you.”

“Tony,” Steve said. Not a question, and he didn’t sound pleased.

“And Agent Romanov,” Carter added.

Loki followed them even more closely as they changed clothing, trailing a few steps behind until they reached some sort of briefing room. There was a screen visible through one of the walls where James was visible, still with his hands locked to the arms of an ersatz chair, utterly expressionless.

Loki expected Natasha to come first, but it wasn’t her. It was Stark, looking harried and irritated. Loki moved into one of the corners of the room, feeling his jaw twitch.

“Tony,” Steve said, looking up.

“Steve, Sam,” Tony said, in the same tone, and then sighed. “You’ve been busy. Were you going to tell me Barnes had done a runner?”

“I was at a funeral,” Steve said.

“Uh huh.” Stark sat down. “And you, Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be the sensible one?”

“I’m a simple guy just following his conscience,” Sam said dryly. Stark looked back and forth between them and made a face.

“Sam, can I talk to Steve alone for a sec?”

“Sure thing,” Sam said. “I’m going to go make sure no one’s doing anything unconstitutional to Bucky. If that’s all right with you.” He pushed his chair back a little too loudly and walked out. Stark and Steve looked at each other. Loki leaned back against the wall.

“Okay,” Stark said. “I need you to be straight with me, Steve. No one’s listening but me. Did you know Barnes was loose?”

“What does it matter if I did?” Steve said, after a long moment. Stark looked up at the ceiling like he was seeking help there.

“So that’s a yes. Jesus, Steve…”

“I wonder why he thought it might be necessary,” Steve said with a pointed glance toward the video screen.

Stark shook his head. “Where’s Loki,” he asked. Steve shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

Stark narrowed his eyes. “Really? No idea?”

“None,” Steve said blandly, and Loki felt a small well of warmth at the attempt, however futile, to protect him. “He could be anywhere by now.”

Tony ran his fingers through his hair. “That doesn’t scare you? Loki out there somewhere, on his own, probably pissed off-”

“Not that he has any reason to be,” Steve said dryly, and then sat back. “No. It doesn’t. What scares me is the idea of what Ross might do to him if he gets what he wants.”

“I’m more worried about what Loki might do to the couple hundred government agents in this building to try to ‘save’ you.” Loki fixed his eyes on the back of Stark’s head. _I would start with you._ Steve shook his head.

“You don’t know Loki.”

“Easy for you to say that. He _likes_ you, at least for now.” That stung. More than he wanted it to, with its murmur of _faithless, untrustworthy._ Steve stiffened.

“Don’t. You don’t get to question _my_ relationship, Tony.”

“Why not? Because you know _everything_ about Loki, you can read his mind-”

“I know him better than you do.” Steve shook his head. “You’re not listening. You _never_ listen.”

Stark threw up his hands. “I _am_ listening. I just don’t think you’re seeing clearly. Steve, dammit – can you think about this objectively for a second?”

“Are _you_?” Steve challenged. “Can you honestly tell me that none of this has anything to do with you feeling guilty for Ultron?”

“Maybe it does. Does that mean I’m wrong? We’ve fucked up, Steve-”

“ _We_ have,” Steve said. “But look who’s paying for it. If you still think this is really about the Accords…”

“Barnes _bombed_ the place. His face was on _camera._ ”

“It wasn’t him,” Steve said. “And don’t look at me like that. This isn’t me being gullible. It doesn’t make sense, it’s not like him. I _know_ Buck-”

“What about the Winter Soldier, huh?”

“He can’t be brainwashed again,” Steve said stubbornly.

“Says Loki.” There was something very faintly unpleasant in Stark’s voice, and by the way Steve’s head turned toward him, eyes narrowing, he didn’t miss it. Stark raised his hands quickly. “Look, Steve, even setting _aside_ the fact that the guy is known as a liar and could tell you anything he wanted with no way of verifying it – maybe he doesn’t _know._ Human brainwashing and magic brainwashing aren’t the same thing, and maybe he’s good at one-” Loki felt himself coiling tight. _You judge me, you sneer and strut and claim your moral high ground when you were just as quick to take power and use it for yourself when you had the chance-_

_You are like me. The world just didn’t push you far enough._

“I don’t see how you can accuse _me_ of making this personal when it is clearly _just_ as personal for you,” Steve said, anger slipping into his voice.

“Steve…” Stark looked, for a moment, inexpressibly weary. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Steve asked.

“I do. But - don’t _you_ get it?” Stark pushed his chair back and stood up, pacing away. He came within an arm’s reach of where Loki stood. “We’ve all just - settled in, accepted it all as normal. But it’s not. How long has it been since Loki was attacking Midtown? Or Barnes was shooting up a highway in D.C.?”

“Tony,” Steve said, his eyebrows drawing together.

“No, wait,” he said. “Give me a...give me a minute. You didn’t see some of the carnage the two of them left behind, when you were...when we thought you were dead. You didn’t see him when everything with SHIELD went down and he was ready to slaughter anyone in his way. They’re both - volatile at best, and possibly quite a bit worse than that-”

“You’re not really endearing yourself,” Steve said flatly. Stark scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

“You know Wanda, her...thing? Getting in our heads? You want to know what I saw?”

“Tony, that was an attempt to play on our fears, not a foretelling of the future.”

“Everyone was dead,” he said. “All of you, dead. And it was him. Loki. He ripped us apart from the inside, just like he did the first time.”

“Loki’s not going to do that.” Steve’s voice did not leave room for discussion, and Loki felt a very faint well of relief. “You _don’t know him_ , Tony. Not like I do. You don’t know him, and you don’t know Bucky. And what do you think happens to them if we go through with this?”

“I don’t know! But are you really comfortable with doing nothing? Letting things keep going like this and hoping you’re right?”

“About Bucky and Loki? I am. Maybe we need more oversight. But not like this. And I’m not going to throw anyone under the bus because you’re being paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” Stark sounded tense and almost incredulous. “I’m _paranoid_ for recognizing the threat in a half-crazy, violent supervillain and an assassin with a history of brainwashing-”

“You don’t get to talk about them that way,” Steve said, palm slapping loudly against the table.

“Tell me where I’m wrong! And Wanda-”

Loki stiffened at the same time Steve did. “What about Wanda?” Steve asked. Stark closed his eyes and shook his head.

“We can’t afford this right now. There’s something big and nasty on the way and we need to be getting ready for that, not arguing with each other. Not dealing with a former _agent_ of the damn thing-”

“Who was _tortured_ into obedience – or were you just going to leave that part out?” Loki felt the urge to reach out and touch Steve’s shoulder, or else to close his own ears against the chill of those words, the tug between _I was not_ and _don’t speak of it, don’t make me think about how I was remade._

“Don’t tell me he couldn’t’ve found another way out of it,” Stark said, and Loki felt himself coil tighter. “Even _Loki’s_ never claimed that it wasn’t his choice. And even if it _wasn’t –_ doesn’t that just make my point even more relevant? If Thanos controlled him once, who’s to say he won’t do it again?”

Loki flinched. Steve did too, but his voice was hard. “Have you tried that argument on Clint? I bet he’d love it.”

“I bet he’d love that you just made that comparison,” Stark said.

“Tony…” Steve shook his head. “You saw something and it scared you. But that doesn’t make it _true._ And you have to admit that all of this seems pretty…” Steve lowered his voice. “Do you really think this is about oversight? If Ross gets what he wants he has Loki, Bucky, and the Avengers under his control. Whatever he says about a global agreement, I read the fine print and that’s what it would be. This is the guy who hunted Bruce for years, remember? How can you trust him? I’d be willing to sit down and actually _talk_ about options-”

“Would you?” Stark challenged. “What if a condition of those options was Barnes in a cell? Or Loki actually being tried - on Earth?” Steve hesitated, and Loki tensed.

“Is that a condition?” Steve asked eventually, his voice perfectly level. Stark sighed.

“I don’t know. I’m not the bad guy here, Steve.”

“Neither is Loki,” Steve said. “ _Or_ Bucky,” with a pointed glance at the video screen that showed his prison.

“If you sign we can figure this whole thing out,” Stark said. “I can talk to Ross, get Bucky transferred to a hospital while we evaluate what’s going on. We can talk through…options for what to do with Loki. Maybe it’s as simple as house arrest and limiting his magic, I don’t know-”

Loki stiffened. _I won’t let you,_ he thought savagely, at the same time as Steve shook his head. “Loki’ll never agree to that. His magic’s a part of him, Tony. You can’t just take it away.”

“I can if that’s what it takes to keep people safe!”

“And what about the good he can do? What about the fact that he helped us in Sokovia, that he rescued me from HYDRA and warned us about Doom? None of that matters?”

_Don’t bother,_ Loki thought. _He won’t listen. He’s already made up his mind._

He’d heard enough. Loki slipped out of the room. He needed to talk to James.

* * *

He made his way slowly downward, careful not to disturb anything as he went, and noted the various safeties and securities, just in case. His skin felt too tight and Loki recognized the anxious, too rapid whirl of his own thoughts. _You know where this is going,_ they kept whispering. _There is only one place this can end. What are you willing to give up? How much are you willing to sacrifice?_

James was alone when Loki slipped into the room where they were keeping him. He glanced at the camera in one corner and flicked his fingers at it, leaving an illusion of the room as it was in place before dropping his glamour.

James didn’t jump or startle. He just looked up, something so dull in his eyes that for a moment Loki wondered if they had drugged him – but no, he thought. That was just defeat.

“James,” he said, striding over. He set his fingers to the front of the cage, feeling for its weak points, but James’s voice stopped him dead.

“No,” he said, a bit of a rasp to it. Loki paused and looked at him, raising his eyebrows. James shook his head. “Don’t do it. Don’t let me out.”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Pardon?”

“Leave it,” James said. “In fact, you should probably just – leave.”

Loki jerked back, a sting of hurt stabbing through him very briefly before he shoved it away. “Why?”

“Because…” James dropped his head forward. “I don’t know. Maybe I should be here. I was never going to be able to run forever.”

Loki recoiled for a moment. “You are not serious, surely,” he said. “You were set to fight this. You were determined to do so. And suddenly you are – giving up?”

“Guess I am.” James’s voice was flat. Loki clenched his jaw.

“They won’t kill you. You said it yourself: they will _use_ you. Is that what you want?” James twitched, and Loki almost regretted using that lever. Almost. He pushed harder. “And what of Steve, what do you think _he_ will feel-”

“I ran to keep Steve out of this,” James snapped, interrupting him. “And now he’s right back in it. _You_ pulled him right back in it when you came to find me.”

Loki nearly flinched back, stung. “He would have come with or without my help.”

“I don’t want Steve to go down because of me.”

“Oh, yes,” Loki said, voice dripping bitterness. “I am sure he would rather lose you altogether. That certainly sounds like it would be Steve’s preference.”

James’s shoulders coiled tight – and then abruptly relaxed. “I don’t want to fight you,” he said dully. “You should be worrying about yourself.”

“A pity,” Loki said, his voice harsh. “Saving my friend from his own _stupidity_ is currently occupying all of my time.” But he didn’t move to open the cage. He should. He should break it open and drag James free, whatever he said.

But he understood the need to stop running and face the end, when it came for you. He could not simply accept it. But he could understand it.

One corner of James’s mouth twitched. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever actually called me _your friend._ ”

Loki blinked. Was it? He supposed perhaps it was. He tended to avoid saying the words, something superstitious in him half thinking that the moment he spoke them it would all go to pieces. “Poor timing.”

“Yeah, well,” James started to say, and cut off. “Someone’s coming,” he said. “Get out of here, stop whatever you’re doing to the cameras and go.”

“Oh, no,” Loki said smoothly. “I am not going anywhere.”

“Loki…”

“If they behave,” Loki said with a sharp-toothed smile, “so will I.” He flicked his glamour back around himself and let go of the working blocking the camera, stepping back to where he could see both James and the door he presumed the interviewer would walk through.

He expected Ross to be there, but it was just one man – unremarkable seeming. Loki narrowed his eyes but stayed where he was. If it looked like there was immediate danger, he would move. Until then…

The man sat down, flipping open a folder on the table in front of him, and looked at James for a long several seconds. James looked back at him, largely expressionless.

“Winter Soldier,” the man said, finally.

“My name is Bucky. Or James Barnes.”

“Is that so?” Something in the interviewer’s tone of voice sent a vague warning prickling down Loki’s spine: memory and instinct mingled together, the memory of saying _I will kill you_ and the reply, in just that tone: _is that so?_ Not truly much caring what the subject had to say. Confident in their total power.

He drifted slowly over on silent feet, prowling over to where he could peer over the man’s shoulder at the folder on the table. “Could you answer some questions for me?” The man said. There was a red journal on top of what looked like scrawled notes, embossed with a black star. Loki looked at it and then at James, at his arm. The warning prickle intensified.

James said nothing. The man picked up the journal and flipped through it. “Tell me about December 16th, 1991.”

Loki tensed. So did James. “What,” he rasped. The interviewer leaned forward, and Loki recognized his posture: someone who believed himself on the verge of getting something he wanted very much.

“What happened on December 16th, 1991?”

James twitched. Hesitated for just a second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes,” the man said. “You do.” He closed the journal and sat back. “ _Zhelaniye._ ” James went utterly still and then surged into motion, straining at his bonds. _“Rzhavet. Semnadtsat. Rass-_ ”

“That’s enough of that.” Loki kept his glamour up as he grabbed the back of his neck, and slammed his head against the table. Probably non-fatal; he didn’t particularly care if it wasn’t. James stared at him, panting and wild-eyed, struggling to focus and not just, Loki suspected, because of the magic disguising him.

An alarm started to blare.

The lock mechanism was no trouble. He didn’t even need to use magic to tear off the restraints.  He glanced very briefly at the security camera, thought _come find me, Steve,_ and swept them both away.

James’s metal hand gripped Loki’s shoulder too tightly as he gasped for air. Loki didn’t try to detach him, letting him recover on his own. He was aware, distantly, that he might have made things worse – but at the same time, he had a feeling that all he’d done was speed up the inevitable.

“Where are we,” he asked finally, sounding a little dazed.

“Northern Europe,” Loki said. “I am not sure where, exactly, in terms of national borders.” James gave him a blank look, and Loki shrugged one shoulder. “I came here frequently, over the years. Every journey makes it easier to find the path again. We needed to be elsewhere quickly.”

James shivered.  “Shit,” he said, and backed up into a tree, sinking down next to it. “I. _Fuck._ Who was, who was that, who-”

“I do not know,” Loki said.

James made a peculiar sound and dropped his head, shoulders locked so tight they shook. “They can’t have me back,” he said, voice thick and strained. “They _can’t._ You said…”

Oh. “He was trying to…turn you.”

“Activate me,” James agreed. “Yeah.” He swallowed hard, clearly on the verge of panic, and after a moment Loki reached down and gripped his shoulder. He did not draw on the magic he might have used to soothe him artificially, though; he had a feeling that intervention, just now, would be too much.

“It would not have worked,” he said quietly. James jerked his head in a nod, up-down.

“Steve,” he said at length, looking up, his voice a little clearer. “And Sam. They’re still back there. They’re going to blame the two of them for me – getting out.”

“Steve will find a way out. And him I could find anywhere.”

“What about getting a message to him covertly?” James asked. “Can you do that?”

“He would rather I didn’t.” Loki rolled his shoulders back. “If we wait an hour and then go…I think we should be safe.” He glanced sidelong at James. “Are you well?”

“No.” James dropped his head onto his bent knees, his back rising and falling with deliberately deep breaths. “It didn’t work but for a second, god…”

“What is December 16th, 1991?” Loki asked carefully. James twitched slightly.

“I’m not sure. I don’t…” James inhaled slowly and let it out. “Sometimes memories are still…slippery. A mission, maybe? Or…something. I don’t know. Dates are…hard.”

“Does anything come to mind?” Loki pressed. “Smells, or sounds…” The imposter who had interviewed James was after _something._ It might well help them to know what.

James closed his eyes. His throat bobbed. “Cold,” he said. “It’s – cold. Taking me off ice, I think. But that could be any one of a dozen…” he trailed off, his face going white.

“What,” Loki asked, jerking toward him. “What is it?”

“I think I know what he wanted,” James said, his voice strained. “And I didn’t give it to him but if he has some other way – _dammit._ There’s a base, up north. Siberia.” He jerked his head to the side. “Something’s _there,_ something HYDRA hid, that they’re scared of. I don’t remember, or maybe I never knew, but…”

HYDRA, Loki thought, had feared too little. That they had found something that frightened them boded very, very ill. “You did not remember this before now?” He asked sharply. James shook his head.

“I told you. Stuff is – tangled. Jumbled, it comes and goes.” His agitation was plain, in his short sentences and the way he nearly vibrated where he stood. “We need to tell Steve, get to him. Get to the base before this fucker does.”

“Do you think he can find out the location another way?” Loki asked.

“I’m not going to assume he can’t,” James said darkly. Loki supposed, given the run of their luck so far, that that was probably wise.

* * *

Loki followed the tracking spell on Steve, prepared to meet trouble, but when he stepped back out from in between worlds they were standing in a parking lot beside a seedy looking motel. James rolled his shoulders uneasily.

“Could be a trap,” he said.

“Certainly,” Loki agreed. “But if it is then we have probably already sprung it. Best to keep moving. The longer we stay in one place the more likely it is that Stark will track me there.”

Easy enough to follow the magic to the appropriate room and knock, though Loki motioned Bucky out of sight, holding himself ready.

Sam opened the door and the expression on his face was one of intense relief. “There you are,” he said, and Loki glanced at James before Sam could ask.

“Move,” James said, nudging Sam out of the way with his shoulder. “Let’s get out of the open.”

“Bucky?” Loki heard from inside: Steve’s voice, his relief audible. “Is Loki with – oh, thank god.” Steve dragged James into a hug, and then Loki, holding on tightly for just a moment before he let go. “All the chaos – we weren’t sure if you made it out.”

Loki cocked his head. “Tell me that you caught that peculiar interrogator.”

Steve shook his head. “He was gone by the time Sam and I got there. Sharon snuck us out and then went back to see what she could find out – we’re meeting her at another point soon.” He looked back and forth between them. “How long were you there, Loki? I told you-“

“You cannot have really thought that I would simply leave you to your fate,” Loki interrupted smoothly. “I followed you. When it became clear that our mysterious friend intended to try to suborn James’s mind-”

Sam stiffened. “Is _that_ what happened? There wasn’t any audio on the feed we were watching.”

“That’s what happened,” James said, glancing through the curtains on the window. “Tried the old codes. No dice thanks to what Loki already did, but – he wanted something. A location, I think, in Siberia. A base, or a storage facility…I’m not exactly sure.”  He turned back toward Steve. “We need to go there. This – Sharon person, how much do you trust her?”

“She’s Peggy’s niece,” Steve said. “And she’s helped me before.”

“Peggy’s niece isn’t Peggy,” James said flatly, but then shook his head. “Fine. But we should go.”

“Do you think he was a HYDRA agent?” Steve asked, frowning. “The man who questioned you?”

James hesitated, then shook his head, slowly. “No way of knowing, not for sure,” he said. “But I’d say not. Feeling wasn’t quite right.”

Loki frowned. “Is it possible this man set up the bombing somehow? To get access to James? Make him a target, draw him into the open…”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together. “It seems like a stretch. But maybe.” He paused. “Right now – we need to get our gear back from Sharon. And she might know more about where we should go, too. She’s going to call when she’s ready.”

James frowned. “Call?”

Steve half smiled. “Burner phone, Buck. I’m not completely ignorant of how this works.”

Loki paced what length of the room he could, trying to shuffle through his thoughts, the events of recent days. Trying to put them in order. “Did anyone see me?” He asked.

“No,” Sam said after a moment. “Though I’m guessing at least Tony and Natasha knew you were involved. Anyone who knows you’re here will probably guess eventually. There aren’t a lot of people who can dent metal with their hands and one of them isn’t currently on the planet.”

Ross could use that, Loki thought critically. If he could imply – or state outright – that James had been helped by _the Loki,_ that would do a great deal of harm to James’s reputation. He could not, however, go quite so far as to wish he had not intervened.

Carter called not too long after, and they left in a car that was a little too small to be comfortable. Loki took the seat next to Steve, leaning his head back and half closing his eyes. “We are going to have to deal with Stark eventually,” he murmured. “Even if we can outrun him long enough to take care of this other threat first.”

Steve’s hands flexed on the steering wheel. “I know.”

“He may already be following me to you. Do you know what you will do if he catches up?”

Steve exhaled and shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Perhaps you should be.”

Sam leaned forward. “What are _you_ thinking, Loki?”

He shrugged. “I have not come up with a solution yet.”

Sam frowned. “If Tony knew that there was something else going on, that Bucky didn’t…”

“He won’t believe it,” Loki interrupted. “And even before this – he would see James and I imprisoned at the least. Now he simply has another reason, and governments backing him.” He glanced at Steve, taking in his troubled expression.

“One thing at a time,” James said lowly, a hard edge on his voice that surprised Loki.

They pulled up under a bridge and Loki stepped out of the car, stretching his legs and watching the road. When a nondescript white car pulled off the road and started toward them, Loki gestured at the others in the car.

“I would like to stay with you,” he said to Steve when he got out. “Just in case.”

Steve gave him a sharp look. “I trust Sharon.”

“I do not,” Loki said, and if Steve looked like he was tempted to argue the car had already stopped, Carter climbing out of the driver’s seat, and Steve moved toward her. Loki glamoured himself back to the face he’d worn in front of her before, and watched her eyes flick toward the car, no doubt noticing the two passengers.

“You found him?”

“We did,” Steve said. Sharon’s eyebrows twitched up.

“Did you get an explanation how he got out?”

Steve, to Loki’s slight surprise, didn’t twitch or glance in his direction. “I didn’t ask,” he said, which was an evasion of sorts, but one he managed well enough. Carter pressed her lips together but seemed to let it go. Loki drew a little closer, though he held a few paces distance. Close enough to move if necessary, but not close enough to demand attention, and he left his hands in his pockets.

“I found something,” she said. “Might be related, might not – a man in Cleveland, former colonel in the Russian Armed Forces Vasily Karpov, was found drowned in his house yesterday. He’d been dead for maybe five days – hard to tell after that long.”

Steve jerked. “How do you think _that’s_ related? Related to what?”

Carter’s lips twisted. “Investigation of the premises turned up some…information that linked him to HYDRA.” Steve’s shoulders locked and Loki resisted the urge to move toward him and reach out.

“You think they’re somehow involved in this? Why kill him?”

“I don’t think they are,” Carter said. “Someone else killed him, presumably because he knew something they wanted. He was found with his head in a sink full of water.” Interrogation, Loki heard, and kept himself from glancing back toward James. Someone wanted information out of HYDRA, and only a few days later someone tried to hijack James’s mind about an old mission. Coincidence seemed unlikely.

“Who,” Steve said. “Are there any suspects? Maybe the psychiatrist…”

“Maybe,” Carter said. “A traffic camera caught a car driving a couple blocks from Karpov’s house. The driver was identified as Helmut Zemo – Sokovian national, former Black Ops.” Steve’s frown deepened. “It’s nothing definite. But…”

“But it’s something,” Steve said, something grim in his voice. “And have there…have any other former HYDRA agents turned up dead?”

“Not yet. I’ll keep an ear out.”

Steve relaxed slightly, glancing toward Loki. “Then maybe he – Zemo, maybe – still doesn’t know where he’s going.”

Carter looked at Loki as well. “Know where he’s going?”

“We think the psychiatrist – or fake psychiatrist – who was with Bucky is looking for a HYDRA base with some kind of…weapon, or something, in it,” Steve said, and then glanced toward Loki. “Wait. Could you…if it was this Zemo, would you...” _Recognize him,_ Loki realized Steve was asking, while trying not to say that Loki had been there.

Loki held out a hand. “Do you have a picture of this man?”

Carter examined him, looked at Steve, and then tapped a few buttons on her phone and held it out. He took it. He only needed to glance briefly at the picture. “It is him.”

“How do you know?” Carter asked. “Where do you recognize him from?”

“You said he was in Sokovian Black Ops?” Loki lied easily, and when she nodded slowly simply shrugged, as if to say, _well, there you have it._

Steve exhaled loudly. “Sokovian,” he said under his breath, and Loki gave him a sharp look.

“Do not, Captain.”

Carter’s eyes were narrowed in his direction. “Who are you, really?”

“Pardon?” Loki said, carefully innocent.

“I ran a search,” Carter said coolly, looking at him. “I found a couple of Theodore Skarsgards, but none of them had been to London recently. And now you’re implying you know something about Sokovian covert operations. Seems just a _little_ suspect.”

“Is that so,” Loki said equally coolly, though he saw Steve go pale out of the corner of his eye. “Do you search the names of all your casual acquaintances?”

“Only when they’re friends with Steve Rogers and my instincts suggest something’s up,” Carter said. “You gave me a fake name.”

Loki cocked his head a fraction to the side. “So I did.”

Steve shifted. “Sharon…”

“Shut up, Steve,” she said mildly. “So who are you?”

Loki glanced at Steve, who looked helplessly back at him. He felt the oddest urge to laugh and gave Steve a faint and crooked smile. “The lady is clever,” he said. Carter’s hand twitched toward where Loki thought she probably had a gun.

“Well?” She said, a hair more aggressively.

Loki looked toward her and shrugged, letting the glamour fall away with the gesture. “I would apologize for the subterfuge, but I fear it would seem disingenuous of me.”

Carter jerked back, her eyes widening, and Loki was simultaneously bitterly gratified and a touch upset by the reaction, earned as it was. Her eyes flicked toward Steve, who stepped forward with his hands raised in a placating gesture – placing himself, Loki noted with displeasure, between Loki and Carter’s gun.

“Sharon,” he said. “It’s fine, I promise. He’s on our side.”

“More correctly, I am on _your_ side,” Loki said. “Seeing as I do not know whose she is on.”

“Steve,” Sharon said tightly, ignoring him. “You didn’t mention this.”

“No,” Steve said. “I didn’t. I’m – sure you can understand why. But Loki’s with me. You can trust him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Loki murmured, and Steve shot him a look.

Carter glanced at him and then back at Steve, who added, “Fury knew.”

Carter’s hand moved slowly away from her gun. “Of course he did,” she muttered, and looked Loki up and down. He could recognize her aunt’s critical, sharp gaze in her, and looked back at her evenly, waiting. Finally, she sighed, jerking her head in a nod.

“You’re going to have to explain this one to me at some point,” she said to Steve, and to Loki, “I’m guessing it was you who broke Barnes out, then?”

“Indeed,” Loki said.

“If you could do that, why’d he ever get caught?”

“Because James has some misguided ideas about the worth of your justice system,” Loki said, which won him another dirty look from Steve, so he added, “It would not have been helpful for me to be involved. It was only once it was clear that there was too much danger in playing along that that changed.”

Carter looked at Steve. “What makes you think you can trust him? That, I need to know.”

Steve looked at him, expression a little helpless. Loki looked back, waiting, and at length Steve squeezed his eyes closed and cleared his throat, face slowly turning pink. “He’s…um. Loki’s been – living on Earth for a few years now. And he’s…” Steve trailed off, looked at Loki again, and then looked at the ground, jaw shifting. “In for a penny,” he muttered to himself, and looked up, chin raised. “We’ve been seeing each other. For a while.”

Carter’s eyebrows shot up. “ _He’s_ your secret boyfriend?” She burst out. Steve turned bright red and Loki felt _his_ eyebrows twitch.

“What do you – _secret boyfriend?_ ” Steve sounded scandalized.

“It’s not – well, Peggy said some things, about you saying some things,” she said, turning a little pink herself. Loki was relieved that _he_ wasn’t prone to the same. “Nothing _explicit_ , but – I’m a spy and so was she.” Carter sounded almost defensive. Loki huffed a quiet laugh. Steve looked a little wild-eyed.

“I never said – _she_ never said-”

“It was pretty clear you weren’t…exactly open about it,” Carter said, her blush fading. “So…she wasn’t going to make a _thing_ out of it. But she did say something about…” she glanced at Loki, eyes narrowing. “Did you go to see her?”

“Once,” Loki said, after a moment in which he considered lying. He could feel Steve looking at him and added, “it was when she was…ill, Steve. You were speaking to her family. I did not think she would wake.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I was curious.”

“You didn’t say,” Steve said.

“It was hardly much of a conversation.” He glanced back at Carter. “Are you intending to hold that against me?”

She stared at him for a moment longer, and then her hand moved away from her gun. “No,” she said, and Loki heard Steve exhale. “I guess if Steve’s willing to vouch for you…I’ll take that.” _For now,_ her expression suggested.

“Do you have everything?” Steve asked.

“Bird costume and all,” Carter said, with just the barest flicker of a smile. Loki glanced back at the car and could see Sam talking to James.

“What’s going to happen to you?” Steve asked. “To your job?”

“They’re not going to know it was me,” Carter said. When Steve just looked at her, she sighed, looking down. “I’m not sure. Government work is starting to disagree with me, anyway.”

“You’d be welcome with me,” Steve said. Loki refrained from coughing in disagreement, but Carter shook her head.

“No,” she said. “At least – not for now. I’m going to ride this out. See where the chips fall. And if they fall in a way I don’t like…well, I guess I’ll come looking for you.” Her eyes flicked to Loki. “You.”

“Whatever you are going to say,” Loki said wearily, “I doubt it is anything I have not heard before. And if it is threats of violence – trust me, there is already a line.”

Carter’s lips twitched, very slightly. “My aunt was a pretty good judge of character,” she said after a moment. “It was a short conversation, but for some reason she decided you were all right. Try not to prove her wrong.”

Any one of several sharp responses surged to the front of Loki’s mind, but he held them back and kept himself to a simple nod.

“Good,” Carter said. “So-” Something buzzed in her pocket, and Loki tensed.

“You brought a _phone?_ ”

“It would be more suspicious if I went completely off the grid. This is my personal, anyway, I don’t know who would be-” She broke off as she looked at the screen.

“What?” Steve asked.

“It’s from a CIA line,” she said slowly. “But it’s a text, and all it says is ‘Steve, pick up a damn phone and call me.’”

Loki turned at the sound of a car door opening. James stepped out and stood up. “What’s going on?” He asked, plainly suspicious. Steve was looking at the phone Carter had handed him.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “But I’m pretty sure it’s Tony.”

James stiffened. “Don’t answer it,” he said tightly.

“I have to agree,” Loki said. “Whatever he wants-”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, and Loki knew he’d lost. “I have to give him a chance,” he said. “Hear him out, at least.”

“Why?” James asked. “He wasn’t exactly hurrying to hear _you_ out.”

“Maybe he’s changed his mind,” Steve said. “Realized that this doesn’t make sense. That we shouldn’t be _fighting._ We could use his help, too, with Zemo. We don’t know how big what he’s planning could be. I’m not saying – I’m not backing down. I’m just giving him a chance.” He looked back and forth between Loki and James.

“Stark thinks I am a _half-crazed, violent, supervillain,_ ” Loki said flatly. “I do not think there is much room for compromise in that.”

Steve flinched. “You were listening,” he said.

“I was.”

“I think Steve’s right,” Sam said, climbing out as well. “If we can get out of this without anyone getting shot at – more – I think that’d be preferable. We’re not agreeing to anything by calling.”

The three of them all looked at James. “Do I want to know what names Stark was calling me?” He asked Loki, then shook his head. “Never mind. Steve…I trust you. Do what you have to.”

Loki looked away, lips twisting, but didn’t raise his voice again.

“What about you, Sharon?” Steve asked. “Do you think I’m making the right choice?”

“I think you’re making the Steve Rogers choice,” Carter said. “Which might be the same thing.”

“Might be?” Steve asked.

“You’re asking the wrong girl for reassurance,” Carter said. “I’m a spy, Steve. If I know one thing it’s that nothing is certain and few things are as simple as right and wrong.” She paused. “But for what it’s worth, I think my aunt would be proud of you.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped and his head dropped forward in clear relief. “Thank you,” he said. Loki looked away politely as they embraced.

“If that’s settled,” Sam said when Steve took a step back. “Do you think we can make a stop? If we’re going to go digging in a secret HYDRA base in Siberia, there’s some folks we need to pick up.”

* * *

‘Some folks’ turned out to be ‘four folks’ – Barton, the Maximoffs, and a man Loki did not know at all. Loki hung back with James, watching them exchange greetings until the witch noticed him and – of all things – brightened.

“You’re here,” she said. “I wasn’t certain-” She glanced at her brother. “We didn’t know what was going on.”

Loki frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Tony had Wanda on house arrest with Vision,” Barton said. Loki noted the way he hovered protectively near the twins, like they needed a guard.

“I told her we should leave,” the witch’s brother said. “I _would_ have-”

“You could’ve gotten hurt trying,” the witch countered. “and I thought…” She glanced at Barton, and smiled a little crookedly. “Well. Someone had to remind me to stop moping.”

Something else occupied Loki’s thoughts. “The android was guarding you?” The witch paused a second, and nodded. Loki’s eyebrows twitched up. “And you got away?”

“I imagine he’s still climbing out of the several stories deep hole in the ground she left him in,” Barton said, sounding not a little pleased. Loki blinked, just once.

He did not fully understand the creature that called itself the Vision. Certainly it made him decidedly uneasy, not just for the ease with which it had overpowered him or the Mind Stone it bore in its forehead. The way it straddled the line between _alive_ and _not_ , and the immense power it was capable of unleashing, the fact that some part of him still thought of the Mind Stone as _Thanos’s_ …

And this _witchling_ had overpowered him. New to her powers, still barely trained…

Loki wasn’t certain if he was more nervous or impressed.

“Hang on,” someone said, and Loki belatedly remembered the fourth member of this little party. Lang, he remembered vaguely. “Is that-”

“Yeah,” Barton said. “That’s Loki.” The expression on his face couldn’t decide if it was amused or rueful. “Loki, Scott Lang. Scott Lang, Loki.”

James stepped a little closer to him, and Loki could almost feel him bristling. Half expected him to start growling. Steve gave Barton a hard look.

“You didn’t _tell_ him?”

“I was busy explaining everything else,” Barton said with a shrug. “We got stuck on ‘Bucky Barnes is alive’ for a while. And then he started hyperventilating about meeting _actual Captain America,_ so, yeah, I may have glossed over some things.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” James asked, and there _was_ a growl in his voice there. Loki put a hand lightly on his elbow and looked at Lang, who was staring back at him. He raised his eyebrows a notch.

“Sorry,” Lang said at length. “I’m just a bit – overwhelmed. A lot to take in at once. And this is very…unexpected.”

“What a kind way of putting it,” Loki said dryly. Lang paled a little.

“Sorry?”

“Loki,” Steve said, not quite reproachfully. Loki glanced at him and then back to Lang, and arranged his features in a faint smile.

“I assure you,” Loki said, “you have nothing to fear from me. I am quite tame.”

“Mostly,” James said, glancing at him. Loki huffed a quiet laugh.

“All right. Mostly.”

“I trust him, completely,” Steve said, looking a little like he wanted to frown disapprovingly at them both. “As much as any of you.”

“Well,” Lang said after a moment, though he still looked a bit shaken. “I guess that’s good enough for me. Nice to meet you, Mr. Loki. Um…is Thor here too?”

“No,” Loki said, trying not to let that question touch the vague worry about just where Thor _was._ “He is not.” He tried not to be annoyed by the fact that Lang looked utterly crestfallen at the news.

“Thank you all for being here,” Steve said. “I’m going to…Tony’s asked me to call, and I’m going to.” Loki noted Barton’s frown with satisfaction. “If he wants to talk, we’ll talk. If it comes to a fight…hopefully it won’t.”

“We’re with you, Cap,” Sam said quietly. Steve nodded.

“I’ll make the call. The rest of you…I think you should suit up. Just in case.”

_Just in case,_ Loki thought. So Steve wasn’t as sure of this as he wanted to seem. Didn’t trust Stark as much as he pretended to.

While the others unloaded gear, Loki stayed with James. “What do you think Stark wants?” He asked. James shook his head.

“No idea. He doesn’t seem like the backing down type – his father sure wasn’t. He’s never liked me and he likes you even less. But…he’s also not stupid. He’s got Romanov on his side, and that – Vision, thing. Maybe the panther king. Rhodes. But you alone are worth at least two of those, maybe three, and then there’s the Maximoff girl. If Stark’s done the math…he might come down on deciding he doesn’t want a fight.”

“Or he might turn to trickery,” Loki said, watching Steve’s back, the phone at his ear. “It is what I would do, faced with such odds.”

“Yeah, he might.” James shifted. “I can’t help but feel like we’re missing something. What Zemo wants. What the _point_ is. If I could just remember what was in there…”

“I am not convinced he was not a plant by Ross attempting to discredit you,” Loki said, but James shook his head.

“I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong – Ross is a scumbag and he’s definitely not doing this for the greater good, whatever he says. But I don’t think Zemo was one of his.”

“I suppose there can be more than one evil at work at a time,” Loki allowed. James made a sort of _ha!_ sound at the back of his throat.

“There always is.” James nudged Loki with his elbow. “Look. Steve’s coming back.”

Loki looked. The expression on Steve’s face was difficult to read – it certainly didn’t look as though Stark had said _never mind, forget it, let’s drop this and go home,_ at least.

“What did he say,” Loki asked. Sam stopped strapping on his wings, and the van door opened, the witch’s head poking out.

“He says he wants to meet,” Steve said. “And just…talk.” Loki scoffed. Steve shook his head. “I know, but – I think he means it. He said things have gotten really out of hand and we should take a second to sort this out before things get ugly. Uglier.”

Loki had to imagine that the dubious look on James’ face was reflected on his own. “Sounds like a trap to me,” Sam said.

“I know there’s a possibility of that. But-” Steve exhaled. “Call me crazy, but if there’s a way to sort out this mess, I’d rather do that than go straight to punching people. And Tony doesn’t know about Zemo.”

Barton leaned against the side of the van. “So, what? You just going to sit down with him at a coffee shop while the rest of us eye each other warily?”

Steve pressed his fingers to his temples. After a moment, Loki rocked forward and paced over to him, pulling Steve’s hands down and replacing them with his own, easing away the pain. Steve gave him a brief smile that faded quickly. “Neutral ground, he said. Open field, where neither of us has to worry about an ambush. It’s about an hour away from here, I guess.”

“And how are we going to get there?” The witch’s brother asked. “I can carry my sister, and the Falcon can fly, but the rest of you?”

“I can only bring perhaps two, at most three people with me at a time,” Loki said.

“No,” Steve said. “I think we’ll do this the easy way. We’ll drive. Park a bit outside and walk the rest of the way. When we get there…I’ll do the talking. Loki, you and James-”

“If you try to tell me to run and hide,” James said, something sharp in his voice. Steve shook his head.

“I’m not. Just telling you to stay back. T’Challa…we don’t need to provoke anyone until this all gets sorted.”

“Gotta ask, Cap,” Barton said quietly. “Do you really think it will?”

Steve glanced away, a small tic spasming in his jaw. “My rule is to plan for the worst and hope for the best,” he said after a moment. “And if it comes to the worst…” He trailed off, for a moment – just a moment – looking a little lost.

“I don’t suppose that is permission to rip off Stark’s limbs,” Loki said dryly. Steve gave him a look, and Loki let the corner of his mouth flicker slightly up.

“No,” Steve said after a moment. “It does not.”

“He’s joking, right?” Loki heard Lang say. “That was a joke?”

“Probably,” Barton said, and patted him on the shoulder. Loki kept his eyes on Steve, worry nibbling at the corners of his mind. He still looked exhausted. Heartsore.

Loki wished for his sake that he believed there could still be resolution without bloodshed, but if he hadn’t been certain before, he was now. There were too many factors, too many ways for this truce, if that was what it was, to fall apart.

He would just have to be ready to react when it did.

* * *

They walked for perhaps a half a mile to reach the open field where Stark’s quinjet had landed. “Should I hide myself?” Loki asked. “And James, I could make us both unnoticeable…”

“No,” Steve said after a brief hesitation. “They’ll be looking for both of you, and if it looks like we’re hiding something…” He trailed off, and then paused and lowered his voice still further. “I know I don’t need to tell you this, and I hope it won’t be an issue at all, but if things go south…”

“Do not you dare tell me to leave you,” Loki said flatly. Steve shook his head with a very small and rueful smile that didn’t smooth the wrinkles in his brow.

“I know how pointless that would be. I was just going to say…I know you’re angry, but these people are still our friends.” _Your friends,_ Loki was tempted to correct, but he held his tongue. “I won’t tell you not to hurt them, but-”

“I won’t kill them,” Loki said, and some part of him felt a pang of bitterness that Steve felt the need to say this – even knowing that, were it his choice, he would likely not make the same call. Better a dead enemy than one that came back to fight you later.

At the same time…he liked Romanov, after a fashion. Respected Rhodes and T’Challa. And even Stark was not…an _evil_ man. Simply irritating.

With the possible exception of the android, he did not truly want any of them dead. Simply feared the cost of leaving them alive.

“Thank you,” Steve said. “I know…how much is at stake for you. Thank you for holding back.”

The bitterness eased away and Loki paused, turning, to cup Steve’s face in his hands and kiss him gently. There was an awful certainty lurking in his stomach that this was going to end anything but well. But Steve…

He knew what he was willing to give up, and what he was not.

“Oh,” he heard Lang say. “Huh.” Ah, yes, Loki thought with some wry amusement. There must be another shock for the poor man.

“Thank you,” Loki said quietly when he pulled away. The furrows in Steve’s brows deepened.

“We’re going to make it through this,” he said. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Loki said. He brushed his fingers against Steve’s jawline and started walking again.

Stark was already there with his company. Loki scanned the lot of them, his eyes lingering briefly on the android. If it came to a fight, that one was going to be the most trouble. He couldn’t discount the rest, but the Vision was the only one Loki was certain could singlehandedly defeat him. Romanov’s eyebrows were furrowed, and Loki wondered idly what she made of all this.

“You came,” Stark said, and he seemed…honestly relieved. “Wasn’t sure you would.”

“I told you I would. I…appreciate you reaching out.”

Stark smiled thinly. “I don’t think anyone wants this to turn into a brawl.”

“Not really, no.” Steve glanced once more in Loki’s direction and then walked over toward Stark. Loki tried not to tense.

“Came armed, though. Doesn’t show a whole lot of faith.”

“So did you,” Steve pointed out. Loki heard James shift next to him.

“The Wakandan is looking at me,” he said lowly. Loki glanced over and indeed he seemed to be, though with his mask it was hard to tell for certain. He certainly didn’t seem to be paying a great deal of attention to the proceedings between Stark and Steve.

“What do you want, Tony?” Steve asked. Stark cracked another smile.

“You make this sound like it’s a hostage negotiation. I’m just trying to figure out a compromise. All right? We can all go home equally upset, that’s how this works. So…why don’t you start?”

“The Accords don’t work,” Steve said promptly. “They need some careful reworking and limits to make sure the Avengers don’t just end up a tool for established powers to use. That’s not what we’re for.”

“Getting right into it,” Stark said. “We can work out some kind of amendments…”

“Easier said than done,” Romanov said. “You can’t just _rewrite_ a U.N. resolution overnight. Would you be willing to go along until that process was finished?”

“Depends,” Steve said.

“On Loki and Barnes.” Stark rolled his shoulders back and looked over at them. “Right.” Loki cocked his head a fraction to the side and let his eyebrows twitch up: a faint, ever so slightly mocking expression, and Stark broke eye contact first.

“You scare him,” James said quietly. Loki huffed a quiet laugh.

“And I haven’t even tried.”

“I’m not letting either of them end up in military hands,” Steve said.

“That is simple,” T’Challa said, his voice even and cool. “James Barnes’s life is mine.”

Steve stiffened. Loki didn’t call on his magic but he shifted his mind so he was ready to take action if needed. “No,” he said. “I understand that you’re angry, T’Challa, but-”

“You do not,” T’Challa said, cutting Steve off without raising his voice. “I have allowed you great liberties on account of our past friendship, but you cannot keep me from him for long.”

“Hey,” Stark said. “Hold on. T’Challa, can you just – maybe we can go back to the old situation, some kind of secure facility. And I’m sure we can work out some kind of house arrest for Loki, as long as there’s some kind of restriction on his magic-”

“If you try to bind me,” Loki said without meaning to, “I will rip your throat out with my entirely non-magical hands.” He felt James tense next to him and could almost hear the silent question, the memory of the way they had worked together before.

“Loki,” Steve said sharply.

“Put your boyfriend on a leash, Rogers,” Rhodes said. Loki was tempted to flash his teeth and only just refrained.

“I have told you what I will accept,” T’Challa said. “I do not care what is done with the other, but Barnes is mine.”

“That’s not an option,” Steve said.

“I don’t require your permission.”

Loki reached for his magic and just held it, not acting yet but ready to react the moment the king moved.

Steve made a frustrated noise. “There’s another threat here, Tony. One you've been ignoring chasing after Bucky-"

"Oh, did  _he_ tell you that?" Stark said, jerking his head in James' direction. " _It wasn't me, it was my evil twin-_ "

Steve tensed. “If you’re not here to have a conversation, then we need to _go_ and _do our job._ ”

But it wasn’t the king who moved first. He caught motion out of the corner of his eye, in the trees to the west, and half turned. “Steve,” he said tightly. “Someone is coming. Ten, twenty people at least. I would guess soldiers.”

“Are you serious?” Sam said. The witch’s eyes widened, her head jerking around. Steve whirled on Stark.

“Whoa there, Rogers,” Stark said. “I don’t know what’s going on-“

“Bullshit,” Steve said. “You _told_ them-“

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Steve,” Sam said tightly, and Loki heard a gunshot.

He flung up a shield in front of James, guessing the target, and hissed in surprise when a hot line of brief, sharp pain zinged along the side of _his_ neck. Not shooting to wound, Loki thought, even as he called on his magic. Shooting to kill.

Steve was looking at him, wide-eyed. The others seemed frozen. Loki felt himself twitch. “Well,” he murmured. “It would seem the time for negotiation is over.”

Stark was reaching for Steve, either to grab him or use his armor’s weapons on him: in truth Loki did not care.  He stepped through space, yanked Steve out of the way, pivoted and punched Stark squarely in the arc reactor.

Face would have been more satisfying, but there was too much of a risk of doing more damage than he meant. Stark flew back and Loki grinned; it felt savage, half feral.

And then it was war, as Loki had known it would be. Lang seemed to vanish between one moment and the next. He felt the coil of Wanda’s magic gathering, taking shape. And yet – they might have strength, but with Ross’s men bearing down on them, they did not have numbers. And if Ross’s men were willing to kill…they would only have to miss once to hit a more vulnerable target than him - or even James.

But the soldiers hadn’t reached them yet.

“Wanda,” he shouted. “Call your brother back!” He stepped through space away from the others and dropped into a crouch, flexed his fingers and pressed his hands flat to the earth. The moment he saw the blur that was the witch’s brother clear, he gathered his magic, reached down into the earth, and _pulled._

The ground heaved under the soldiers’ feet, ripples running away from Loki’s hands into the treeline. It wouldn’t last for long – the earth did not like to be moved. But it would create chaos. Buy time.

He stood and turned, jerking back a step – but Sam landed in front of him, wings swept up to form a shield. “Move,” he said, teeth gritted as a repulsor beam hammered against his back. Loki grabbed his arm instead and pulled him through space to Steve’s side.

“Steve,” Sam said, sounding breathless. “You need to take Barnes and Loki and get out of here. This is only going to get messier and you need to get to Zemo and stop whatever he’s trying to do. Take the quinjet – or have Loki take you-“

“I would have to know where it was more precisely than I do to manage that,” Loki said.

“Then the quinjet.”

Steve shook his head, stubborn. “And abandon all of you? If these people are shooting to kill-”

“They won’t kill us,” Sam said. “Too much bad PR.” He turned toward Loki. “Come on. You know I’m right.

James materialized, seemingly from nowhere. “What are you doing? You’re sitting goddamn ducks here.”

The pieces all fell into place so _perfectly,_ and Loki realized that somewhere, deep down, he had always expected it to come to this. Not _this_ precisely, perhaps, but this nonetheless. He almost wished, for a breath, that he was just a little more selfish.

“Sam is right. Go,” Loki said. “Take James and get away from here.”

Sam’s head swiveled around. So he hadn’t missed the omission. “I said _and Loki,_ ” he said.

“I didn’t.”

Steve looked stricken dumb. Like a man realizing that something was slipping from his grasp, too far gone to stop. “Don’t be stupid,” James snapped. “You can just magic us-”

“Stark can track my magic, remember?” Loki said. “He’ll follow. And with him – so _go._ I can handle myself, just as the others can.”

He saw Steve swallow. James’s voice was harsh. “Except you’re not a superhero. If they catch you, what’s to keep them from killing you?”

Loki forced a smile. “I guess I’ll simply have to ensure that they don’t catch me. All I have to do is help the others hold them off.”  He took a step back. “Now run.”

“Loki,” Steve said, but _no,_ Loki would not say _goodbye._ He stepped away.

What they needed most now was time. Distraction and obfuscation. _Easy._

His magic came to his call and he wove an illusion of a vast serpent uncoiling from the earth, rearing up high above the battlefield with its terrible fangs bared.

“What the _hell?_ ” Loki heard someone say, and Ross’s men turned their weapons on it – only for the illusion to melt before a blast of concentrated energy.

Finally, he locked eyes with the android where he hovered above the battlefield. Loki shifted stance, planting his feet, feeling his shoulders hunch like an animal at bay.

His magic slipped away from Vision, as usual. The Mind Stone flared and Loki felt the ripple of its energy gathering, but he _knew_ that power and with enough focus he might be able to wrench its control away. Loki planted his feet, teeth gritted, all of his attention narrowed to a point, thinking _you know me, let me, let me…_

“Loki!” Wanda screamed, and his focus broke. He turned just in time for Rhodes to barrel into him, momentum knocking Loki off his feet, slamming him into the ground several feet away. One hand planted into the center of his chest fired a repulsor and Loki felt it like a punch and brief, unexpectedly sharp pain. He flung one hand up, weaving the working to short out the armor, reaching for his magic.

It didn’t answer. Loki felt his eyes widen, panic surging in his chest, but did not let himself freeze. He flipped them over and rolled to his feet and away. “What did you do,” he snarled, drawing one of his knives.

“Thought that’d be obvious,” Rhodes said. “Stand down, Loki. You know how this ends.”

Loki caught a tendril of red out of the corner of his eye, and summoned a smirk. “Do I?”

He dropped and rolled. A large boulder slammed into Rhodes, knocking him back, and he was moving again. His magic might be gone but he could still fight, he had blades and wit and strength (and whatever they had done, it would pass, it wasn’t permanent. Where had they found the means? Oh, he could guess, only one place they might have). He could still slip away.

_No, you cannot. You knew that when you sent Steve away. You knew where this would end the moment Ross showed that video. You knew._

He flung himself into the fight. Grabbed a soldier and threw him at one of his fellows, spun out of the path of a bullet and saw T’Challa running toward the Quinjet as it started to lift away. He summoned one of his throwing knives, calculating distance and speed and trajectory-

The pain came suddenly. It reminded him of nothing so much as the Other’s psychic touch, setting nerves on fire without external damage, something hammering at his mind like a thumb pressed at the top of his spine, hammering at _him._ He recognized the Mind Stone’s familiar song underneath, its promises of peace if he would only succumb.

_Let them make it,_ he thought. _Let me do something right, for once._

He forced himself to stand, to turn, to face the Vision.

“I am sorry,” he thought he saw the android mouth, before gold light swallowed him whole.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologize for leaving things on a cliffhanger but I'm not _actually_ sorry. 
> 
> Here we are again at the end of another installment - the fiftieth and maybe one of the densest, despite coming in second as far as actual length goes. I have a few thoughts about where I'm going next - some of them contingent on what happens with the MCU moving forward, some of them very much not. We'll just have to see. The verse isn't over, not by a long shot, I can tell you _that._
> 
> I mean, for one thing I have a ~holiday special~ fic that's going to be showing up probably on Saturday or Sunday, so you have that to look forward to before the end of the year. There's a part of me that's like "and maybe after that I'm going to take a bit of a pause and try to finish some of my other verses-in-progress" but that's almost certainly lying to myself. I love this verse too much to leave it alone for long. 
> 
> Though you wouldn't know it to look at how I treat my characters. 
> 
> As usual, I can be found killing time [on my blog](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), where I post all kinds of fun things, and also all kinds of other things that are less fun. I'm chattier there than I am here. Thanks, all - see you on the flip side.

His blood ran thick with poison. No, drugs, to keep him sluggish and pliant, unable to fight back. Where his magic should be there was emptiness, and he remembered the use of something like Doom’s work in Stark’s laboratory, remembered his comments about what might be found in the ruins of Victor’s castle, and felt sick. Not only from whatever they had pumped into his veins.

They hadn’t killed him. Loki couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad sign. If they had interest in Victor’s _project…_

The others…they had to be alive. Stark would not kill them. He could hear the low murmur of voices somewhere nearby, but not directly by him. The last thing to register was cold stone under his shoulder and hip.

Loki prized his eyes woozily open. For a moment, all he saw was blurry shapes and a great deal of grey. “I think he’s waking up,” he heard, in what sounded like Barton’s voice. He shook his head, or tried, but his body was slow to respond and reluctant to move.

Something metal on his neck. No, not on, around. Collared and bound like a beast. Panic surged up the back of his throat and he jerked and felt the short length of chain that shackled his wrists to the floor. _Needles and knives and probing hands_ -

Loki made a strangled, furious sound and flexed his arms against the shackles, straining, _you cannot hold me like this I will not be bound I will-_

He heard a single beep and something in the collar clicked. His teeth slammed together and his back arched as a current surged through him, searing all down his spine, spidering out to his fingers. Lightning lighting him up like a tree in a storm. Loki slumped when it passed, panting.

_Well,_ he thought raggedly, his head falling forward. _Well. You said you would do anything._

“Oh god,” he heard Lang say. “That’s…nice.”

“Loki?” Barton’s voice sounded a little uncertain.

“Yes,” Loki managed to croak. He could see him, lifting his head; not quite halfway around the room. He could make out what he thought must be Lang’s feet, as well. He couldn’t see Sam or the witch, but he could see the Maximoff brother, pacing back and forth restlessly. And Barton, tight-lipped and staring at him.

“What just happened?” Sam asked, sounding both angry and strained.

“Loki tried to break his chains and the shock collar went off,” Barton said matter-of-factly.

“I am fine,” Loki said flatly, though he heard the slight tremor in his own voice. “How long…”

“No idea,” Sam said. Loki was briefly, faintly surprised that he was being held in the same place as the rest. Perhaps whatever cage was meant to hold him was still being built. Or whatever means they planned to use to kill him. “Maybe twelve hours?”

Loki closed his eyes for a moment. No wonder he felt so wretched. “Did they get away?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said, with very faint satisfaction. “They did.” Loki slumped a little. At least, he told himself, there was that.

It felt thin, though. It was all Loki could do not to try and claw the collar away from his throat, even knowing the metal wouldn’t give, even with his arms immobilized. He could feel the current running through it, making his skin itch alongside the uncomfortable, strangling feeling of his magic both suppressed and held away. Well, some faintly hysterical part of him thought, at least they were not underestimating him. At least they hadn’t muzzled him. At least…

His fingers would have twitched, if they were not encased in something that held them straight. There was faint panic clawing at his lungs that he did his best to fight down. The bright lights, featureless walls, bound and helpless.

_You heal less quickly now. I shall have to adjust my pace accordingly._ Loki flinched, his throat closing. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on his breathing. He’d chosen this. That might be a kind of madness, but he had _chosen._ No one had tried to dissect him yet, and if they tried-

_You will fight? Ha. They are not so stupid as to give you the chance._

“What’s he doing?” The new one, Lang, asked.

“Fighting off a panic attack,” Barton said. “If Tony got that off switch for Loki’s magic where I think he did...”

“He did,” Loki ground out. “This is – Doom’s work. I can tell.” He sucked in a breath through his nose, pulling his mind away from memories of pain. “Wanda. Where is she?”

“To your left,” Sam said after a pause that felt too long. “But she’s…not doing great.”

“Their mothers were goatherds,” Pietro said in Sokovian. The first words he’d spoken, and not quietly; Loki suspected the meaning was somewhat cruder than the exact words. He felt a very small well of fellow feeling towards him.

“What did they do,” he asked.

“You’ve got matching shock collars, for one,” Barton said flatly. Loki pressed his lips together. Well, he thought cynically, it could be worse. For them both. Still, his skin itched under the collar and there was a low running refrain in the back of his mind: _get it off get it off get it off me._ He kept half seeing flashes of green out of the corner of his eyes. _Doom is dead,_ he reminded himself. _They just stole his machines._

_And would probably like to do the same to you as he did._

Loki pushed that thought away. “Wanda,” he said lowly. Nothing, and Loki felt a well of frustration, wondering why he had thought she would respond to him and not to others. Still, he tried again, wishing he could reach out another way. “Witchling.”

He wondered what nightmares she was reliving.

_No one is going to save you now. You have no more defenders, only Doom._

Loki swallowed hard several times, convulsively. Where were Steve and James, he wondered? Already arrived in Siberia? Perhaps their errand already completed. (Perhaps they’d been killed.) Fear and fury tangled together in his gut and he choked back a snarl. He shifted and his chains sounded loud.

“So when does the rescue mission arrive,” Lang asked, after a long silence.

“Never, if Steve’s smart,” Barton said. “Him and Barnes’ll keep their distance from here.” He huffed a bitter laugh. “Sorry, Scott. Picked a bad time to join the Avengers.”

Loki heard a small sound from his left. “Pietro,” Wanda said, and then in Sokovian, “are they going to kill us?”

“No,” her brother replied vehemently, and for once he wasn’t glaring at Loki. “They won’t.”

“This isn’t HYDRA,” Barton said, and Loki supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that he knew the language.

“What’s the difference,” Pietro snapped.

“Witchling,” Loki repeated.

“Loki!” She sounded relieved, briefly. “I thought you were dead. I thought Vision…” She trailed off. Loki could almost feel the betrayal, the hurt.

“I am more durable than that,” he said. “As are you.”

“What’re they saying,” Sam asked Barton, who murmured, “nothing much.” Loki heard Wanda take a shuddering breath in.

“It’s going to start again,” she whispered, but Loki didn’t think he was really meant to hear it. His stomach turned, a mixture of anger and a kind of unwilling sympathy. Her own captivity was even closer behind than his, and his felt as though it was clawing at his back. Cutting into his flesh like Doom’s vibranium blades. He focused on his breathing, keeping it even, regular, but he felt sick with anxiety. Or perhaps just sick.

_Thor,_ he thought briefly, but what if Thor did not return, what if Thor was gone, was dead, was-

Thor gone, Steve gone. _I severed his head with his own shield,_ he heard, and pictured Steve and James both lying in frozen pools of blood, slowly being covered by snow. His throat closed and for a long moment he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

_No,_ he thought. _That isn’t what is going to happen._

What _was_ going to happen…Loki didn’t know. He hadn’t thought past here – hadn’t let himself do so, in truth, because if he’d considered the cage he was closing himself into he could never have done what was necessary. He could try to convince himself it was fair – even just. He had, after all, escaped his previous imprisonment. And it was not a bad trade: his life for both Steve and James.

(If they survived.)

He remembered the days in his cell beneath Asgard, the way the solitude had closed in so quickly until he felt like an animal chewing at its own leg – only there was no trap he could escape. He had been able to imagine, then, how it would eat away at his mind until there was nothing left, until he was _truly_ mad.

Perhaps that was what awaited him now. That fate not avoided, merely deferred.

Loki bowed his head and focused on keeping his breathing even. “Loki?” There was an odd tone in Barton’s voice.

“Yes,” he said, not lifting his head to answer.

Hesitation. “Are you going to…lose it?”

Loki coughed a laugh, rough-edged and grating. “I cannot do any damage to you if I do.” _When,_ whispered cold certainty at the corner of his mind, but he pushed it away.

He could almost hear Barton’s grimace. “Not what I meant.” Loki remembered, suddenly, Barton hovering at his shoulder, pressing water into his hands, urging him to sleep. Unexpected, unlooked for care.

This was not the same, but there was still some kindness in it.

Loki dredged up a strained smile from somewhere. “I will let you know if it seems likely,” he said, trying for a lightness he did not quite manage. He did not look Barton in the eye. Did not want to see what expression was on his face.

The witch made a soft, unhappy sound. Loki closed his eyes.

* * *

Lost in the spiral of his thoughts, he didn’t hear the door open, didn’t notice anything until Barton’s voice rang out. “Well, _look_ who it is. Ladies and gentlemen, the futurist!”

The rage that boiled up from deep within tasted like acid. Loki lifted his head slowly. He couldn’t see Stark yet, but he entertained a brief and _vivid_ fantasy of ripping free of his bonds. He wouldn’t need magic to snap his neck. He felt the surge of his magic trying to answer him, and the answering pain as it was smothered, forcing a hiss out between his teeth. The hatred couldn’t be so easily quenched.

“ _Tony_ Stark,” Barton said, his voice bleeding mockery. “He knows what's best for everyone, whether you like it or not. All seeing, all knowing-”

“Don’t act like it’s my fault you’re in here,” Stark said. He sounded disgusted, and Loki felt another hot flare of anger. He shut out Stark’s voice before he did something foolish. Trying to think of Steve, safe and free.

“Watch out, Ross!” Barton shouted. “Take a look at what this guy does to his _friends._ ” Stark turned away, ignoring the Maximoffs and landing briefly on Loki.

Loki met his eyes and watched Stark flinch back, very slightly, before he walked over with too-perfect bravado. Loki curled his lip. “You must be delighted with yourself,” he said, not letting fury put any rough edges in his voice. “The _victorious_ hero. How _does_ it feel, looking at your friends in the cages you put them in?”

“I don’t have to talk to you,” Stark said, but he’d already stopped. Loki wished he could stand. Could make Stark feel the thinness of the barrier that held him back.

“But you will,” Loki murmured. “Better me than having to look at Ms. Maximoff. Or considering what it means that you are wrong. Are you beginning to realize the width of the bridges you set aflame?”

Stark’s shoulders locked. “That _I -_ you know what? This is _your_ fault. If you hadn’t busted Barnes out in Vienna, we wouldn’t be _here_ now.”

“If you believe that you are an even greater fool than I took you for,” Loki said.

“Yeah? Why not go further back, then - if you hadn’t decided to enact your _family issues_ all over this planet, there’d have been no New York incident, no scepter, no Ultron, no Sokovia. So if you want to point fingers, look in a mirror. Oh, but that’d require you taking some _responsibility,_ and you can’t do that. You’ve been hiding behind Cap’s shield for years, and I let it slide, but honestly it’s about time someone put you where you belong.”

“How noble,” Loki sneered. “This is all about your seeing _justice done,_ of course. Not at all about your wounded pride or your foolish ego. Not about your belief that no one other than you could possibly know what is best. Not-”

“I’m the only reason you’re still alive,” Stark interrupted, taking a step forward. “Did you think of that? Ross wanted your head on a platter and _I_ argued him down by pointing out that there’s a _30-megaton nuclear warhead_ who might be kind of mad about that. So maybe think about showing a little _gratitude._ ”

Loki felt his expression spasm. “Your selflessness astounds me.”

“It should,” Stark said harshly. “I could’ve kept my mouth shut. You could be getting cut to bits in some lab right now.” Loki’s stomach and throat clenched at the same time ( _what a glorious specimen you are,_ Doom said, eyes burning with hunger).

“Magnanimous Lord Stark,” Loki spat, savage, almost violent. “Do you expect me to grovel in gratitude for my life?”

“I expect you to stop talking like the opinion of an insane supervillain means a damn thing to me or anyone else,” Stark said. “It doesn’t. You don’t. So shut up before I get them to slap a muzzle on you.”

“For someone who prides himself on being a visionary, you are astoundingly good at closing your eyes to what you do not like,” Loki said.

“And for someone with such a high opinion of himself, you’re pretty pathetic,” Stark said. “And really, it’s a good thing we got you here before this ‘Thanos’ - if he really exists - hijacked your brain. Again.” Loki felt himself jerk. “Oh, yeah,” Stark said, smile nasty. “Vision mentioned that. A little late, but he mentioned it. You’re a ticking time bomb, Loki, and you know it. If you really _cared_ about Steve half as much as you claim to, you’d’ve put yourself here a long time ago.”

Loki surged forward, nearly lunging against his chains until they yanked him up short. Stark, to his satisfaction, took a step back. “You know nothing,” Loki snarled. “You think you can wave your hand and throw some money around and fix everything. You cannot. You do not even _comprehend_ what you will face, and your folly might well cost you your realm.”

“When Thanos-” Loki flinched, hard as he tried not to, at the casual use of his name- “puts you on like a glove so you can do it for him? But tell me again why you deserve to be free.” Stark shook his head, mouth twisting. “I’m done here.”

“I will get out of here,” Loki said to his back. “Sooner or later. You had best hope I am in a _forgiving_ mood when I do, Tony Stark.”

“Wow, that sounded like a threat,” Stark said coldly. “You’re in a great place to be threatening the guy keeping you from turning into a science project.” Loki’s jaw tightened, but he managed not to answer. Managed not to say _if you hurt Steve I will destroy myself to kill you and think nothing of it._ Stark walked away, moving toward Wilson’s cell, and Loki closed his eyes and tried to steady himself through the roaring in his ears.

He tried not to overhear Stark’s conversation with Wilson, not wanting to press his temper further. It was short, and Stark left in a hurry: Loki hoped Sam had given him the sharp edge of his tongue. In his wake there was brief silence, and then a loud _bang._ Loki opened his eyes.

“Mother _fucker!_ ” Barton’s expression was furious, his voice almost shaking. The sound must have been an assault on the wall. “Son of a fucking _bitch-_ ”

“Hey,” Lang said, sounding uncertain. “Something, uh…”

“Hey, Ross!” Barton yelled. “You listening? If you go _near_ my family I swear to god I will _hunt you_ and your fucking suit won’t save you-”

“Oh,” Wilson said quietly. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Barton said. “I’m gonna fucking-”

Ah, Loki realized. Stark had mentioned Barton’s wife, his children; he remembered, vaguely, hearing something like that. And with the cameras watching…that secret was now an open one. Guards would have heard. Ross would have heard. Barton had made his family’s safety in secrecy, and now that was gone. Would Romanov protect them?

Loki thought of offering his sympathies, but decided against it. It seemed best that he seem distant from the others so they could disavow him if necessary.

He told himself he was not giving up, but his bones felt heavy, something inevitable about all of this, like all his running would eventually have led him here.

* * *

Perhaps eight hours after Stark left Ross made his move. He couldn’t see, but he heard the witch make a quiet _oh_ sound followed by a dull thump, and her brother’s cry of alarm. “Wanda!”

Loki jerked his head up. Two guards entered with a stretcher and a chill ran down his spine.

“Hey!” Barton said sharply. “What are you doing?”

They didn’t answer him. The witch’s brother swore viciously. “Don’t touch her,” he snarled. “Don’t you dare-”

The guards ignored him, too. They lifted Wanda’s limp body out of the cell, apparently unconscious (she must be merely unconscious, or her brother would be reacting more violently, Loki told himself) and strapped her to the stretcher.

Loki wondered dully if they were going to kill her or just torture her. He almost hoped the former.

“Where are you going with her?” Sam asked loudly.

“None of your business,” one of the guards said.

“No,” her brother said, almost a moan. “No, don’t take her, don’t, _you can’t._ ” Loki felt another unwilling pang of sympathy and a more powerful surge of anger as they left without explanation. Maximoff yelled as the door closed, a wordless cry of rage, and slammed against the front of his cell, once, again, again.

“Pietro,” Barton said, though the raw edge on his voice betrayed him. Loki tested his bonds again, searching for a weakness, however slight, something he could break. If he could just reach his magic – he would tear this place to shreds, sink it into the sea, leave nothing but the memory as a warning.

There was no give. No way out.

And even if there was, the bleak thought came to him, where would he go?

From somewhere above came the sound he’d been expecting almost since first waking. The hiss of gas filtering into the air. Loki took a deep breath and held it, thoughts flashing again to Doom and experiments and the awful burning feeling of suffocation.

“Hey,” Barton said. “Loki?”

“What is it,” Sam asked. Loki opened his eyes and looked at Barton, though he didn’t dare speak. By the flicker of his expression, he understood enough. _This has been fun,_ he would have said, if he could, though a part of him wondered what the point was. It would end the same anyway.

Apparently whoever was watching and waiting for him to succumb got tired of waiting. The collar went off, electricity ripping down his spine, air exploding out of his lungs and when he sucked in an inhale he could taste the wrongness of it, feel it trying to drag him down almost immediately.

“Shit,” he heard Barton say. “Goddammit-“

He hated almost more, Loki thought, his head swimming, that the others were going to witness this. Witness him slipping gradually, clawing for consciousness, fighting and failing.

“Clint, _what is it_?”

“They’re taking him too,” Clint said. Loki was faintly surprised by the anger in his voice. “Jesus – how stupid are you people? You don’t have a goddamn _clue-_ ”

“Loki,” Sam was saying somewhere. “Hang on, okay? Just – hang on.”

_I can’t,_ Loki tried to say, but his tongue wouldn’t form the words. _There is nothing to hang on to._ His vision was starting to blur but he continued to fight, pointlessly, clinging to consciousness even as it slipped rapidly away. Loki slumped in his chains, muscles refusing to respond even as his mind scrabbled weakly for purchase.

_Please,_ he thought. _Please, Steve,_ but Steve was far away, safe (he hoped, Norns, he hoped).

Loki could see the doors opening as his eyes slipped closed. Maybe this was the end, he thought. If Ross meant to cut him apart let there be enough mercy that he would not wake again.

* * *

“He should be regaining consciousness shortly, Secretary Ross.”

Loki could feel awareness swimming back in and took stock. He did not feel…significant pain, other than a dull throbbing behind his eyes. The pressure of the collar was still tight against his throat, but he could not feel restraints on his wrists or ankles.

Loki moved, intending to roll to his feet and attack whoever had spoken, but he only made it to his knees before the nausea caught up with him, the world reeling back and forth like a ship on stormy seas. He braced himself against the floor like it might buck him off.

“Dismissed,” he heard, and focused on the man-shaped figure slowly clarifying in front of him. Through a clear pane, of course, and Loki could feel the low menacing hum of it even from his distance.

So it wasn’t to be dissection, he thought distantly. Just a different cage.

“Loki,” his visitor said coldly.

Even with the lingering blurriness, it was easy to recognize him. He blinked slowly, hate coiling slow and thorny around his heart. He stayed where he was, even though it meant being on his knees. That was less humiliating than trying and failing to stand. Still, a shudder of fury went through Loki’s body. "Ah," he said, his voice smoother than he expected. "You could not resist coming to see me yourself."

The man's jaw twitched very slightly. "I'm not here to gloat."

"Not even a little?"

Ross ignored him. "I guess you've seen me before, if you know who I am."

"I might have just deduced as much, Thaddeus." It was petty, but Loki still used the first name with a twist of scorn. "But you are correct. I have." He leaned very slightly forward. "I was there when you spoke to the Avengers about the Accords. I considered snapping your neck then, but it seemed likely to create more trouble than you are worth."

"You're in an odd position to be giving threats."

"That wasn't a threat," Loki said, half closing his eyes. "Come closer and I would be delighted to give you an example of what would be."

Ross's jaw tightened. "I don't know what you did to convince Rogers and the rest that you're anything but a dangerous, unpredictable monster, but that's done with now. You're on your own." The urge rose up to ask about Wanda, but Loki swallowed it back. Anything he expressed about her that might be read as concern would likely only make things worse.

"This sounds a great deal like gloating to me," Loki murmured.

"What did Stark say to you and Wilson?" Ross said abruptly. Loki blinked.

"You weren't listening?" Ross said nothing, and the corner of Loki’s mouth twisted upward. “Ah. Dissension in the ranks, perhaps? Not finding Stark so obedient as you hoped?” Ross’s scowl deepened.

“Answer the question.”

Loki cocked his head a fraction to the side, ignoring the way it made the room tilt again. “Why should I?”

“None of the protections of prisoners apply to you,” Ross said grimly. “And whatever Tony Stark says, Thor isn’t here to protect you.” Loki felt an awful chill down his spine that he kept off his face. That might be a risk Ross would take. It would not need to be _permanent_ damage, not that they would know what would be permanent, unless it was not just Doom’s technology that they had pilfered but his notes, his writings-

Loki slammed the door closed on those thoughts. “You did not miss much,” he said evenly. “Stark postured and insulted me. I was not listening to his conversation with Sam Wilson, but perhaps he was attempting to convince him of his righteousness.” Loki shrugged one shoulder, though his thoughts raced.

What had Stark been trying to hide? He tried to think back, but he’d been deliberately trying to shut the words out. Loki had assumed all they had done was argue – but perhaps Stark had wished to mask some of his conversation with Sam. For what reason? Was Stark not quite so convinced of his course as he pretended?

Loki did not doubt Stark’s words to _him_ had been sincere, but perhaps he was not pleased to see his friends caged as well.

“Do you know where Rogers and Barnes were going?”

“No,” Loki said. His head felt heavy, and he was half tempted to tell Ross to leave so he could sleep. But he might still learn more (whatever good it would do).

“You’re lying,” Ross said. Loki shrugged again.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” He forced himself to smile. “You are welcome to try setting your torturers on me, but it is, first of all, highly unlikely that anything you could do would convince me.”

“Plenty of people say that,” Ross said. Loki just looked at him, holding the smile, and after a moment Ross shifted. “You said ‘first of all.’”

Loki half closed his eyes. “I did. Your other problem would be – how certain are you that you could find a means of restraining me that I could not break? How willing are you to risk the lives of your people as you find out?” Watching closely, he could see a tic in Ross’s jaw, and Loki let his eyes close fully, very faintly satisfied. “Of course, it is your choice.”

He half expected Ross to threaten the others. Was prepared to react with indifference if he tried, but he did not. Loki opened his eyes when he heard Ross move. He pressed a button on the wall by a plain, windowless door, then paused and looked back.

“I’ve started the process to have you tried,” he said. “But it’s just a formality. Everyone knows you’re guilty. I’m going to see to it you face execution for everything you’ve done. This is the last time you’re going to talk to anyone until the day you die. Nothing else you’d like to say?”

Loki smiled thinly, trying not to show the dread that rose up in him at the prospect of long, solitary days stretching out before him, the walls closing in and a painful death at the end of it. “No. I am too focused on visualizing how you would look wearing your entrails as a necklace.” Ross paled very slightly.

“I look forward to seeing you get what you deserve,” he said, and stepped out of the room. Almost as soon as the door closed, Loki heard the hiss of gas being released again. He tried to hold himself still and breathe shallowly. It made him dizzy and sick, but it seemed it wasn’t meant to render him wholly unconscious, just unable to move, or focus, or think.

Time dragged, and no one else came. Loki closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but his head wouldn't stop spinning in nightmare circles, providing him vivid images of Steve and James bleeding out in the snow jumbled together with dream-visions of being dragged down into some pit with a silver mask peering down at him.  _This is the end,_ a part of his mind whispered.  _You should rip open your veins with your teeth rather than let them choose how you die. Or worse, do not die._

He wondered how Wanda fared. If Sam was getting himself into trouble. Barton, he hoped, knew how to keep his head down (but would he?) and the witch's brother would not jeopardize her...

Thor drifted across his thoughts and he almost called for Heimdall before remembering that there was no point. He was an exile. Even if Heimdall could answer, he would not. At one point he tried to reach out to Wanda, but even trying to use his magic brought a surge of overpowering nausea and fresh awareness of the awful, wrong hollowness where that part of him ought to be.

He floated in a half-drugged haze. Whatever cocktail they were using to keep him docile,  _useless,_ gave him a near constant dull headache. But at least no one had tried to cut him apart thus far. And Steve and James were alive, somewhere. He had to believe that, at the very least. He had to.

* * *

Loki was dozing in shallow, restless sleep when something changed.

The poison still swam in his blood like an oil slick, but it was starting to clear. He could hear clamor, distant and chaotic, an alarm shrieking somewhere far away. He tried to lift his head and failed, sickeningly weak. Gnawing hunger in his belly told him that he’d slept through at least one meal, possibly more.

Loud clanging. A yell. “Down here,” he thought he heard, but it might also be a dream. Was probably a dream. _Steve,_ he thought distantly. He’d been here before, dreaming of Steve coming to save him – no, he had come, when Doom had taken him, Steve had come and pulled him back from death. But Steve wasn’t coming now, couldn’t come, it wasn’t safe…

“Retinal scan. Of course.”

“Just give…oh, _there_ we go.” The voices were closer. Loki pried his eyes open enough to see the door open and two people entering. “Loki?” One of them said, Steve said, but he was dreaming. Surely.

“Steve’s not stupid enough to come back,” he mumbled. The other person snorted.

“It’s like he doesn’t know you at all,” he said, and Loki vaguely recognized Sam, which was surprising, and argued perhaps toward reality. “Steve, stop…he’s just drugged. It’ll wear off. Look at his eyes.”

Loki tried to lift his head and managed an inch or so before it got too heavy to hold up. “Sam…?”

“First name? Knew you cared.”

The other (Steve?) moved toward him. He heard something thump and click; the low, vibrating hum died and a section of wall slid down into the floor. Loki blinked and someone was kneeling next to him, touching his shoulder, his face. “We need to get out of here,” Steve’s voice said, close by. “I don’t think he can stand, I’m going to have to – Loki, I’m going to pick you up and carry you.”

Loki turned his head and tried to focus on his face, but he was already being picked up with a quiet _oof,_ his head dropping heavily onto someone’s collarbone, and it was the smell that he finally believed. “Steve,” he murmured. “You came back.”

He thought he heard a slight hitch in Steve’s breathing. “Of course I came back,” he said. “I was always going to.” Loki smiled, very slightly.

“James?” He asked.

“Safe.”

“Would you be…very upset if I sunk this place to the bottom of the ocean?” Loki asked.

“There are a lot of people who work here,” Steve said. “So no, I don’t think you should do that.”

“Pity.” Loki’s head was starting to clear as they moved away from the cell. The clean air was like water on a parched throat, his thoughts clearing, clarifying. “Put me down,” he said, the vagueness bleeding away and anger taking its place.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “You still look a little greenish.”

“I’m sure,” Loki said. If he could not destroy this place, he was at least going to walk out of here on his own.

Steve stopped and set him on his feet; Loki had to catch himself on Steve’s shoulder at first but locked his knees and held his ground for the moment it took to steady. And then he was standing, for the first time since their capture. “Can you walk?” Steve asked. Loki jerked his head in a nod.

“I am going to.” He inhaled slowly. “The others.”

“Out,” Steve said. “Waiting for us.”

The last of the numbness bled away as they ascended, fury taking its place, pounding in his ears. “I should rip this pit apart,” Loki said.

“Don’t,” Steve said. “It’ll only make things worse.”

Loki stopped. “Do you know what they did to me, Steve? How they contained me, _controlled_ me? They stole from the person who managed it before.” Steve’s jaw tightened and he paled a little. “The only reason they did not go further is for fear of Thor – but I doubt that would have held them forever. Sooner or later they would have come with their curiosity and their greed and their knives. And you tell me _no,_ as though they do not deserve to bleed-”

“If you do that,” Steve said, “you’ll just prove Ross right.”

Loki flashed his teeth. “Are you sure he isn’t?”

Sam huffed out an exhale. “Cut that out. No one here’s buying your monster schtick, Loki, and we need to get out of here.”

Steve’s hand on his face was warm, seeping past the cold anger. “It’s not that I’m not angry, Loki. I am. But this place, Ross, his people – they’re not worth giving him that ammunition.”

The anger didn’t bleed out of him, exactly, but the tension did, slowly. “Let’s go,” he said, after a long pause. Steve exhaled audibly but just nodded.

“What was it?” Loki asked a few steps later. “That Zemo was looking for? Is it safe?”

Steve’s steps faltered very slightly and only for a moment. “Nothing,” he said. “It was nothing. The base was empty. I’ll-” He broke off. “I’ll explain later.”

Loki wanted to ask, but for all his head had cleared he still felt blurry, half-dazed, like he was dreaming.

The first deep breath of clean air won a smile. The others were already there, standing in a small knot. His eyes landed on the witch, her shoulder leaning into her brother’s chest, her gaze somewhere distant, though she looked up and met his eyes. “You’re alive,” she said, sounding genuinely surprised.

“So are you,” he said after a brief pause. The witch turned very slightly pink and dropped her gaze, but Loki found that he was relieved.

“All right,” Barton said, his voice rough. “I know _I’m_ ready to never see this again.” He turned toward the unfamiliar plane that was apparently theirs. Loki took a step forward to follow, and Steve caught his arm.

“Just a second,” he said. “Sam – go ahead. I need to…”

Sam’s eyebrows twitched up, but he nodded. “Be quick,” he said. Loki turned to look at Steve, dread coiling around his heart.

“What is it?”

“Loki…” Steve swallowed, his expression grim, and Loki felt his stomach clench. “You should know. I wasn’t sure if I should wait to tell you until – but you should know.”

“Know what,” Loki said, unable to moderate the sharp note in his voice. Steve closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“After...while you were imprisoned. Ross leaked the information that you’d been captured. That you’d...been on Earth for a while.” Loki’s blood went cold, and he stared at Steve, feeling as though he was watching a bilgesnipe hurtling toward him.

“Oh,” he said a little weakly.

“He might not want to admit to your having escaped,” Steve said quickly.

Loki felt as though he’d been punched in the ribs. “They don’t know about you,” he said. Not a question. Steve looked away, and Loki closed his eyes and nodded. “Good. That’s good. Then I can still-”

Steve grabbed his wrist, suddenly and hard. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, _no._ ” Loki looked at him bleakly. Asgard was lost, and he could feel Midgard slipping through his fingers. They knew he was here. The Avengers were no longer protection. And now they had the means to hold him. Loki’s stomach burned, but he felt too numb for true fear.

“Not everyone’s shouting for blood,” Steve said, rushing through the words. “Some people - some people are bringing up the old pieces about Sokovia. A few people have come forward about seeing you in Latveria helping fight Amora. And there have always been some people who doubted how much you had a role in New York - all right, fringe theorists mostly, but-”

Loki snorted softly. “Steve,” he said, but Steve shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter. It _does._ If a few people are willing to reconsider - that’s _something._ And we’re _all_ wanted now.”

“Your good reputation is the only shield you have left,” Loki said. “I ruin that.”

“You don’t have to.” Steve’s gaze was fervent, almost desperate. “You can be part of it. You’re part of it already.”

“People will be hunting me. All of them. And even your allies, will they-”

“T’Challa agreed to let us hide in Wakanda,” Steve interrupted.

Loki jerked. “T’Challa.”

“Things…changed,” Steve said. “He wants to help.” His eyes flickered away, briefly, and Loki smiled crookedly.

“He did not agree to me.”

“We’ll persuade him,” Steve said staunchly.

“And when the governments of your realm come knocking at his door seeking my head, do you think he will fight them for my sake?” Loki asked, his heart twisting in his chest.

“T’Challa won’t let anyone push him around. _Anyone._ ” Steve gripped Loki’s shoulders. “Loki, listen. The best story wins, right? Right now all anyone knows about you is what Ross tells them. But we can show them something different. Not obviously, maybe, not openly, not like before. But a little at a time, show them that you’re not the person they think you are.”

Loki closed his eyes. “But you. Your reputation-”

“I don’t care,” Steve said, and there was something sudden and savage in his voice that startled Loki into quiet. “I don’t give a damn about - I didn’t give you up to Asgard and I’m not going to give you up here, either. You didn’t tell me to leave Bucky to save my _reputation._ So why’re you telling me to leave you, to _sacrifice_ you-”

“Steve?” Loki said, and Steve shook his head, his lips compressing to a thin line.

“I’m done,” he said. “Not...I’ll still keep people safe, protect them. But I’m not going to be their symbol. Not when it means giving up everything else. That’s my line.”

_I’m not going to give you up._ Loki blinked, his chest starting to ache, deep inside.

“Where do we go from here, then?” Loki asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“I don’t know. There’s still...the Titan. We need to be ready for that. And the world isn’t going to stop turning because the Avengers are gone.” Steve’s fingers curled around the back of Loki’s neck in a gesture that released tension Loki had forgotten he was holding. “We’ll figure it out,” he said.

It was the oddest thing, Loki thought. Despite everything, Steve seemed...lighter. Almost at peace.

Hope, Loki thought. That was what it was. All their cards were on the table now: Loki, Bucky, Thanos. Steve knew how far he could - and couldn’t - go. Loki supposed there was a kind of freedom in that. But. _But._

_They’ll never stop hunting you,_ whispered a voice at the back of Loki’s mind. _Next time they catch you, they will not let you live._ Steve deserved hope. Deserved a win, however pyrrhic it might be. He found a smile.

“Lead on, Captain,” he murmured. “Your realm won’t save itself.”

“Not ‘Captain,’” Steve said abruptly, something setting in his face. “Not anymore.”

Loki frowned, jarred. “No?” He said, cautiously.

“No,” Steve said. “Just Steve.” He didn’t sound sad, or like he thought he’d given something up. He sounded…certain.

“Very well, then,” Loki said slowly. “Though I would not say you were _just_ anything.”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve said, but he seemed to relax, so perhaps Loki had managed to say the right thing.

* * *

Loki waited until Steve was fast asleep to slip out. He could hear Wanda and Pietro speaking in low voices down the hall, and knew James was somewhere as well, probably awake. He allowed himself to wish, for a split second, that Thor was here.

Steve, it seemed, was willing to forgive Stark for his part in the harm that had been caused - to James, to Steve, to Wanda. Or at least he was willing not to hold it against him. Loki could not feel the same, but he knew better than to pursue his own vengeance, in that case. Whatever his personal feelings, he could keep his distance from Stark so long as Stark returned the favor.

But there were those he was less inclined to let go so easily.

The office was empty when he stepped out of the space between worlds, but the lights were on, suggesting that its occupant would return shortly. Loki examined the pictures on the desk, removed the gun hidden in one of the drawers and disabled the alarm switch underneath. He considered sitting down in the chair, but, when he heard footsteps and voices approaching, moved over to the bookshelves instead. Out of the line of sight of the door, even if he were not maintaining a glamour to keep himself unseen.

“--going to need to cancel my 2 o’clock,” he heard, just outside the door. “Take care of that, would you? And bump up the meeting with Ashton. If not this afternoon then tomorrow.” Loki flexed his right hand and otherwise held perfectly still. “Thanks, Jenny.”

The door opened, and Thaddeus Ross stepped into his office, phone to his ear. “Mr. Stark? --don’t you _dare_ put me on hold again,” he started to say, and then cut off with a frustrated noise, pulling the phone away and shaking his head as he strode over to his desk. Loki watched him fall still as he realized that something was wrong.

Loki reached out with his magic and touched the phone lightly. It sparked and Ross dropped it with an oath.

“Secretary Ross,” Loki said, letting the glamour fade, smile very faint and very cold. “Long day?”

Ross lurched for his desk. Loki let him, smile widening. “I already removed your weapon. And disabled your alarm. Nor will you have any luck contacting anyone on your phone.” His eyes flicked toward one corner, and Loki added, “your security cameras are currently showing an empty office. You may, of course, attempt to make a run for it. I am, however, _much_ faster than you, and a great deal stronger. I would not bet on your chance of making it far, and considering how far you have already tested my limited patience…”

He watched Ross’s throat bob as he swallowed and felt a rush, the almost addictive feeling of someone’s fear. To his credit, the Secretary did straighten, turning to face him.

“You want to kill me? Fine. I did what needed to be done, and just because Rogers can’t or won’t see it-”

“See what?” Loki interrupted, his voice smooth and soft. “That James Barnes is dangerous? That _I_ am?” He smiled, with his teeth. “He knows. Better than you do. He _fought_ me. All you managed to do was cage me for a short time, with someone else’s borrowed strength.” He leaned forward, slightly. “If I wanted to kill you, Secretary, your blood would already be soaking this nice carpet.” Ross didn’t flinch. Loki could almost have been impressed. “Besides, I could hardly do such a thing after you showed me such _mercy._ ” He let his smile widen further, twisting toward a baring of his teeth. “Perhaps I should show _you_ the same.

“Place visions in front of your waking eyes to torment you to madness. Make you seem mad to others even as you remain mercilessly sane. Tear every happiness in your life to shreds until you stand alone and weeping among the wreckage. I could, you know. Start with your treasured reputation. Who _knows_ what kind of things a determined journalist might find, if I suggested they look? Would you thank me for that _mercy_?”

Ross’s jaw tightened. “Threaten me all you like. Anything you do to me - someone else will hunt you down. _Put_ you down.”

“Will they?” Loki cocked his head to the side. “Consider how long I have lived, Secretary Ross. Consider the list of my enemies - the Chitauri, von Doom, Rumlow, HYDRA. How many still live?” He smiled thinly. “Do you know, _Thaddeus,_ why I am not going to kill you? Why I am not, however tempted I am, even going to rip your life to shreds as vengeance for what you did to me and mine?”

“I’m holding my breath,” the Secretary spat. Loki moved around the desk and wrapped his fingers around Ross’s neck, not quite squeezing but letting him feel the force there. That Loki could crush his throat if he wanted to. That he did want to. He leaned in, still smiling, cold, vicious, _cruel._

“I am leaving you whole for one reason,” Loki said. “Because it is _what Steve would want._ I invite you to contemplate carefully how thin that leash is. I _encourage_ you to consider what happens if you attempt to threaten him and his friends. If you continue to try to hunt them. I just might _forget_ that destroying you is wrong. And then you will learn what it looks like when I am _actually_ angry. Because right now...I am merely _displeased._ ” Loki let his fingers tighten just a notch, then let go, shoving Ross back. He stumbled, mask cracked, skin ashy as he breathed hard, one hand moving toward his throat before he pulled it away.

“You’re a savage,” he said, after a moment. “An evil damned menace-”

“Yes,” Loki agreed coolly. “I am. But I protect what is mine. Steve Rogers is mine. James Barnes is mine. Sam Wilson is mine. Wanda Maximoff is mine. Clint Barton, Pietro Maximoff, Scott Lang. Mine.” He stepped back. “Keep your tame heroes, Ross - if you can. It sounds as though Stark is no longer listening to you either. But the rest? No longer your concern.” Loki turned his back, letting the gun he’d confiscated drop to the ground with a clatter. “Feel free to try to shoot me,” he said casually. “I would love an excuse to rip your throat out now. Otherwise...I think I’ve made myself clear.”

“Shouldn’t have listened to Stark,” Ross spat. “Should have put two rounds in your head the second you went down-”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Probably. But you did not. And even if you had…” He glanced over his shoulder, calling up the memory of the Void and everything he’d seen there, and smiled. “Are you certain I would have stayed dead?”

The last of the color drained from General Ross’s face. Loki felt a cold, awful sort of pleasure. _Good. Fear me, and remember that fear._ “Good afternoon, Thaddeus Ross. Pray I do not see fit to visit you again.” He left before the man could recover his tongue.

When he returned to Wakanda, he stood in one of the rooms looking out on the jungle below and took slow, deep breaths, pulling himself back from the edge he’d driven himself to. He could easily have done worse to Ross than threaten him, and a part of him wanted to go back and do it. Grab his throat again and shake him like a dog with a rat, _you thought you could ruin me, greater than you has tried to devour me and failed._ He could not go back and sleep next to Steve with murder humming in his blood.

Loki heard a soft footstep behind him and whirled, half gathering his magic, but it was only the witch – or perhaps not “only”. Though with her arms wrapped around herself as though she was cold she certainly did not look as though she meant to scold him.

“Where did you go?” She asked. Loki tensed.

“Go?”

Her expression flickered. “I felt it. I’m getting better at that – sensing when someone uses magic. And I guessed.”

Loki studied her sidelong for several moments before he shrugged, deliberately, and turned away. “I sought out Secretary Ross to…inform him that trifling with me and mine is unwise.” He kept his tone carefully neutral. It was a gamble, telling her, but Loki suspected not a poor one. Indeed, her expression darkened, hardening.

“Inform him, hm? I hope you were not too polite.” Her accent thickened slightly, as it always did with her temper. Loki forced a small, crooked smile.

“Do you truly think I would be?”

“No.” Wanda moved a little further into the room, her shoulders easing down very slightly. She hesitated before asking, “is he still alive?”

Loki looked at her for a long second. “I could take offense at that question.” She just waited, and Loki shrugged one shoulder. “For the moment, yes. It would cause more problems to kill him right now.”

The witch nodded, after a second. “I’m glad,” she said suddenly, and there was just the faintest edge of savagery in her voice that took him by surprise. “That you confronted him. Frightened him. He deserves to know how it feels.”

Loki cocked his head a fraction to the side. “I would not expect to hear that from you.”

“Why not?” Her chin lifted, defiant, and Loki’s lips twisted.

“Such bloodthirst is unseemly,” he said, a little dryly, but added, “no, I know. I can…appreciate your anger.”

“Are you going to tell me not to let it rule me?” The edge in her voice was clearer, sharper.

“No,” Loki said after a moment. “I trust you will be able to use it.”

Some of the defensiveness leaked out of her posture and Loki glimpsed the vulnerability underneath. The fragility. She was afraid and hated that she was afraid.

“I heard,” Wanda said at length, looking away from him. “About the leak. That the world knows you’re here, now.”

Loki half closed his eyes. “It would have come sooner or later.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes. “If anyone comes to try to take you away we will stop them.”

Loki blinked at her, startled by the words themselves as well as the vehemence with which they were spoken. She looked back at him, that defiance back in her expression. “Duly noted,” he said slowly.

“Well, you’re part of the team, aren’t you?” Wanda said. Loki blinked again, half opening his mouth to say _don’t be absurd,_ and closed it. How softly that had snuck up on him, but he supposed perhaps he was.

“So it would seem,” he said slowly. “Strange as it is.” He paused, and went on slowly: “you are strong, and only growing stronger. In the future, few if any will be able to cage you. I hope that Ross may be the last.”

She turned toward him, something raw in her face. “How do you do it?” She asked, almost plaintive. Loki nearly flinched.

“Look back as little as possible,” Loki said. “And keep moving even when it feels as though I cannot.” Loki paused. “I am sure you know, but…tell no one of my little jaunt. I would prefer it not become common knowledge.”

Wanda nodded. “I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Loki twisted one corner of his lips upwards. “I should go. Steve will fret.”

“Go,” Wanda said. “And…thank you.” Loki blinked at her, and she seemed to be hesitating on the verge of something – then darted forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I consider you my friend,” she said. “Whether you do or not.”

She left before he could reply. Loki stared after her, an odd feeling swelling in his chest. It might be true that he would be hunted until his end. That Midgard knew him now, a fresh target painted on his back. Their allies had dwindled and Thanos was still playing his long and deadly game. He’d lost his home and what thin veil of safety he’d had.

For the first time, though, he almost felt what Romanov had said after he’d been exiled from Asgard. _You don’t have nothing._ Almost without looking for it, it seemed, something had formed around him. _I protect what is mine,_ he’d told Ross, and maybe at least some of them were.

Maybe that was enough _home_ to build on.


End file.
